Broken Camouflage
by LostinOblivion
Summary: Two FBI agents are abducted off the streets of DC in broad daylight, and suddenly secrets from both past and present start erupting to the surface like a newborn volcano. Morgan/Prentiss.
1. Chapter 1

_I had to wait until I was actually excited to work on a story again, but I think my short hiatus has officially ended. Thank you very much whoever nominated me for the Criminal Minds Fanfic Awards (link in my profile), that kind of recognition is amazing and encouraging, and also humbling. Check out the nominees list, you'll understand why I say humbling. And thank you to the people running it, your hard work is appreciated._

_This is a chaptered story, Morgan/Prentiss centered, but the entire team is involved. And, I'm totally ignoring everything going on in the show now, i.e. that Prentiss is apparently James Bond. I've had this idea for a while, and that doesn't really fit with it. _

_Thank you for reading, and please review!_

_

* * *

"__Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we want to conceal." - Russell Lynes_

September 14, 1976

North Korea

She clung to him, her small frame easily managed in his thickly muscled arms. One skinny arm was wrapped around his neck, the other hugging a stuffed bear to her chest, and her face was ducked against his shoulder. Still, the little girl peered into the night, with big brown eyes filled with fear. But, she didn't cry.

She hadn't cried in two days.

And, the man who held her was a stranger. She had never seen him before, and at nearly six years-old when he'd swept her into his arms, she couldn't offer much protest. He'd stolen into the night with her, rushing through dark landscape as if he had night vision. He never loosened or lost his grip on her, never stumbled or faltered. Like Hercules or Superman, he seemed more than human, capable of things average men could never hope to do.

They reached a car, and he pulled her loose, and set her inside, before climbing in beside her. She curled herself up tight, even though it hurt the cuts on her arms and legs, and aggravated the rash that ran along her thighs. Dried blood crusted over the cuts, and where red had smeared on her arms, her legs, her hands, her face. There were bruises around her little mouth, and her deep pink lips were chapped and cracking. Her dark hair was a tangled, greasy mess, her pigtails having fallen out long ago.

She was filthy, the bodice of her dress covered in vomit, and the skirt soaked in days worth of urine. One hand unwound from around her knees, and scratched at that rash, wincing at the pain. Red, angry bumps covered the backs and insides of both thighs, the skin irritated from sitting in her own urine.

The girl drew further into herself as the stranger wrapped an arm around her, and held her close as the car pulled away. It was warmer and drier in the car than it had been outside, but she still shivered. Still, she didn't make a sound, and didn't move, not even a little bit.

The ride was short, and the man removed her arm, as he opened the door and climbed out. He pulled her from the car, lifting her back into his arms, holding her against his broad, muscled chest. They moved what couldn't have been more than fifteen feet to a truck. The back was open, showing the stacks of cardboard boxes inside, and men stood outside, speaking Korean. The stranger handed one of the Korean men a stack of bills, and climbed into the back of the truck.

Far in the back, there was an open box and a roll of tape. The man pulled her off his body once again, and this time he laid her in the box, almost like he was putting her to bed. There were small holes cut in the bottom, barely big enough to fit her tiny pink finger through.

His voice was soft, almost gentle when he spoke. "Alright sweetheart, I need you to be really quiet for a while. You can't make a sound, not one peep. Can you do that for me, Emily?"

The little girl nodded, curled on her side, clutching the teddy bear, as he'd laid her in the box. She didn't react when first one flap, then another was folded over top of the box, didn't react as the second set was folded over. And, when sounds of tape being unrolled, ripped and smoothed over the top of the box hit her ears, Emily only squeezed her stuffed bear tighter.

* * *

May 22, 2011

Washington, D.C.

7:15 pm

He owed her dinner. At least, according to her, she'd won their little bet. Morgan insisted that she had cheated, but Emily was just as instant that he'd agreed to her little variation on the rules of Scrabble. He had agreed, and he wasn't the least bit sorry about it. Nor was he all that sorry that he lost, not that the game had come to a formal finish of any kind. But, the scores were pretty clear even so.

Morgan had been down by 150 points.

Emily had been down to her panties.

Her idea. He'd swear that up and down on a stack of bibles. Emily had gotten stuck with lousy letters, so she turned to Italian to be able to make a word. He'd cried fowl. She suggested that he allow the obviously illegal move, and any that follow, and in exchange for every non-English word she used, she'd take off a piece of clothing. It's not like he was actually going to say no to _that_. It was when she took off her bra, and sat there across from him, in nothing but her panties, breasts hanging free, that he forgot about the stupid game.

So, now he was buying her diner.

They were holding hands as they walked, strolling along the street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of DC on Sunday evening, as they walked toward the restaurant. It was just an out-of-the-way neighborhood bar that served better than average bar food. Emily didn't want fancy, she wanted relaxed.

Morgan suddenly tugged her toward a display in the window of an electronics store. There was a small flatscreen with a video camera on top, showing anyone that passed by on the street. Emily shot him a skeptical look.

"Do you need a new TV?"

"No, I don't watch it enough to wear it out." He pulled her close, arms wrapping around her waist. "I was actually looking at the video camera. I was thinking about buying one."

"Then do some consumer research first," she said. "Don't buy the first shiny thing you see."

"Where's your sense of spontaneity?"

She cocked an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on her face just before she leaned toward him, and captured his mouth in a steamy kiss. "Better?"

He grinned. "Alright, I like that, we probably just gave their security boys a show, but I like that."

"Oh, you like the exhibitionist thing, do you?"

Rather than answer, Morgan kissed her, a little too passionately for being on the street, but she didn't pull back, she couldn't seem to help herself. It was why they didn't notice the white van pull up at the curb beside them, or pay any attention to the sounds of doors opening and closing. It was only the sound of approaching footsteps that drew their attention.

They broke apart, and turned to see five men surrounding them, all wearing familiar albeit distorted faces: Nixon, Reagan, JFK, Abe Lincoln, and George Washington. What the hell was this?

"Can we help you something?" Emily asked before he could.

"Yeah," Reagan nodded. "Don't fight."

Morgan took an instinctive step in front of Emily, knowing full-well she'd give him hell for it later. "We don't want any trouble, why don't you boys get on your way."

He could see Nixon smile behind his mask, seconds before the men attacked. Three came at him, two went at Emily. She started screaming for someone to call the cops, while fighting off Reagon and Washington. He thanked God for his judo skills as he went at Nixon, Lincoln and JFK.

Then he heard Emily cry, and turned just in time to see JFK had switched targets, and was sticking a needle in her arm, while the other two held her. Emily slumped in the men's arms, unconscious. JFK exchanged the needle for a knife, and pressed the blade against Emily's throat.

"Do not be stupid. Do not move, and she won't get killed."

Morgan immediately froze, and felt Nixon and Lincoln take hold of his arms. JFK kept the knife to Emily's throat as he reached a hand in his pocket and pulled out a capped hypodermic needle, and tossed it to Nixon. Morgan made the slightest move to resist, but stopped at the sight of scarlet drops against Emily's ivory skin.

Everything went black.

* * *

8:45 pm

The man who had been wearing the Lincoln mask tossed his, and the other five latex masks into white van. They were parked in a forgotten section of land, hidden away off a highway in Virginia. JFK scooped Emily into his arms, and carried her to a camper hooked to a pick-up truck. She was bound with duct tape around her wrists and ankles, and across her mouth, and clothed only in her bra and underwear. She was still unconscious. They had several more hours yet.

Washington and Nixon moved Morgan, who was similarly bound, undressed, and unconscious, to the same camper. Washington climbed in with them, and accepted the sawed-off shot gun Nixon handed him-just in case. The camper wasn't huge, but big enough for two hostages and one mercenary with a shot gun. JFK and Nixon climbed into the front seats of the pick-up-an old, black Ford F150, and waved to Reagan and Lincoln, and headed off into the night.

Reagan was busy pouring gasoline over the van, carefully soaking each seat, and every surface that could potentially be used to lift a fingerprint. This included the masks, and their hostages clothing and shoes. Once finished, he tossed the red gas jug into the back of a second pick-up truck. He pulled a tiny matchbox from his pants' pocket, and struck one of the little wooden sticks along the edge. It flared brilliant orange in the rapidly growing darkness. He tossed it into the van, and he and Lincoln watched the white van erupt in flames.

Lincoln tossed two objects into van, and watched them disappear into the flickering orange and yellow.

Then they got the hell out of dodge.

They drove back into the city, to the rundown apartment they were renting, and got to work. Lincoln set the digital camera on the printer, and clicked through the printer, printing four different photos. Once they dried, he slid the photos into a manila envelope that had a printed label on it, and tucked a note inside. Reagan handled delivery, paying a kid twenty bucks to hand the envelope to a doorman.

It was addressed to Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all very much for the reviews and the welcome back, it was awesome! Couple quick things, this probably won't be updated as frequently as my other stories were (just too busy now), and there's some violence in this chapter and in the following ones. This one's going to get pretty bloody. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

May 23, 2011

Quantico, Virgina

8:45 am

He was already in the office when he heard the commotion, though he hadn't been there very long. Hotch stepped out to find a frantic Ambassador Prentiss rushing in, her own security people on either side of her. Reid was out of his seat, and moving toward her, concern on his face. Hotch headed down the stairs, and over to the scene, dreading whatever case she was going to try to hand them. He was suddenly struck with sympathy for Prentiss and the childhood she must have had.

"Well, if you just calm down, and tell me what's going on, I'll try to help you, Ambassador." Reid was attempting to placate her, and failing. Hotch almost laughed at the relief in the young man's eyes when Reid saw him.

"Ambassador Prentiss, what brings you by? Emily isn't in yet, if you're looking for her."

"I know that, Agent Hotchner, that's what I'm here about. I need to talk to you and your team, it's an emergency."

Hotch instantly stiffened. "Has something happened to Agent Prentiss?"

She looked suddenly very tired, and so very much like a worried mother, it nearly made him step back. "Just please get your team together."

At least worried meant Prentiss was still alive, that was something. He turned to his young colleague, who already looked upset. "Please go see if JJ and Garcia are in, tell them to meet us in the conference room."

He simply nodded, and headed off to do as instructed. Hanging onto his professionalism like shield, Hotch gestured her to the stairs, signaling her security to remain with a hand. He pointed her into the conference room, and went to grab Rossi, looking toward the pod of desks below, hoping to see Morgan arriving. He shook his head, maybe the others would run into him.

They didn't. Reid arrived with Garcia and JJ, the former clutching her laptop, and the latter her cell phone, both ready to do war with their weapons of choice.

"Did you see Morgan down there?" He asked them.

"No, they didn't, Agent Hotchner." Ambassador Prentiss supplied.

He frowned, confused and concerned even more than before. "Why don't you explain to us what's going on Ambassador?"

She nodded, and pulled a plastic baggie from her purse, and tossed it in the middle of the table. Inside was a small manila envelope addressed to the Ambassador.

"I received that this morning. They told me someone handed it to my doorman last night. Inside are photographs and a short note." She inhaled, attempting to retain her composure. "Someone abducted my daughter and Agent Morgan."

* * *

Undisclosed Location

9:20 am

They'd gone from sitting and waiting for their heads to clear of the drug-induced fuzzies, to pacing back and forth in their room-which was much longer than it was wide-to sitting, curled up together against a wall. Normally, Emily was all over using Derek's beautifully sculpted chest for a pillow, but right now, she wasn't feeling it so much.

She was pissed that she was half naked and locked in what they estimated to be a shipping container. She was pissed that her head still ached from whatever they knocked them out with, and she was damn furious they hadn't brought their guns with them on their little stroll to dinner. Sure, that may have seemed paranoid, but she was regretting it now. They weren't sure what time it was, but estimated that it was probably the morning, which meant the team might already know that they're missing.

"Can I be completely honest with you?" Morgan suddenly asked.

"Of course." She angled her head to look at him, tension settling in her gut.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to play normal Scrabble again."

Emily chuckled. "I knew you liked my rules."

"Very much. In fact, I think we should apply your rules to every game we play." His mouth was right by her ear, his breath hitting her neck in whisps, sending warmth through her body.

"But, what if I don't need to cheat?"

"Oh, so now you admit that you cheated?"

She considered that for a minute. "At first it was cheating, then you agreed to amend the rules, so it was fine."

He smiled; even in the darkness she could see his teeth. "Now, that's not really fair. You offer to take your clothes off, and no man is going to turn you down."

"I'm might buy that, if it was your first time seeing me naked."

"Well, that particular show just keeps getting better and better." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Emily squeezed his hand.

"What do you think they want with us?" It was what she'd been wondering, and what she didn't really want to think about.

Morgan sighed. "I don't know, Princess. Neither of us would make for much of a ransom."

"Leverage then? Maybe they want something from the Bureau?"

He snorted. "Then why take us? Why not a section chief, AD, DD or the damn director himself?"

She shrugged. "Maybe it's something that involved the BAU, or that they think the BAU can get them?"

They both turned at the sudden sounds of chains jingling and a lock popping open. The door swung up, and it became quickly apparent that they were indeed locked in a shipping container.

The US president masks were gone, replaced by the twisted grins, colorful make-up, and red, bulbous noses of clowns. Not the squeezable foam kind, but plastic molded as part of a mask. Four super creepy fucking clowns.

"Someone's got a sense of humor," Emily muttered, as they both got to their feet.

One clown had three tufts of green hair (one on top, the others on each side), and a exaggerated, wide-open, red mouth. Another had the traditional red curls, but his green and yellow eyebrows are angled sharply down, giving him a sinister look. A third clown had small tufts of bright yellow hair, bright blue diamonds around his eyes, exaggerated cheeks giving him a dopey, stoned look, and yellowed, cracking teeth. The last clown had purple hair, big budging eyes, high rounded and rouged cheek bones, and a small, exaggerated grin. Too small.

Two of the clowns had thin, black batons, yellow hair and purple hair, and they were the first to approach. They started moving slowly, and then everything suddenly went so fast. She wasn't sure who got hit with a baton first, but both their voices were audible, groaning against the pain. It felt like fire was shooting through her body, flames that cut through her like knives. Emily was on the ground without even remembering getting there. Purple hit her again with the taser-baton, and her body jolted violently.

She didn't see him nodding to the other two, or see them heading toward her; she was looking at Morgan's body shaking and jolting on the floor. Hands grabbed her, and dragged her aching, exhausted body out of the box. She saw light, outside, but was too out of it to make sense of anything. Then she was in another box, being pushed to her knees.

There was a fifth clown there, behind a video camera. He had blue hair, overly-defined eyebrow ridges and a wide open, toothy mouth, his tongue sticking out. He looked deranged.

Shit, this wasn't going to be good.

* * *

Quantico, Virgina

9:30 am

Hotch was in a corner, speaking with his bosses, alerting them to the situation. The rest of the team was still parked at the table, riveted to the photographs. JJ felt sick.

It was obvious they were unconscious and both were practically naked. The note, typed in Times New Roman 12pt, about as generic as it got, and a whole 4 words.

_Better find the FBI. _

"It has dual meanings," Reid commented, tilting his head as he studied it. "The use of 'find' as opposed to 'go to' or 'contact'. It refers to both us and Emily and Morgan."

"It's mocking," Rossi supplied.

"Yes, very much so," the genius agreed.

"What does that tell you?" Elizabeth asked, strain evident in her voice.

Rossi held a hand to Reid. The youngest profiler wasn't exactly known for being delicate. Rossi turned to her, adopting the most soothing tone he had. "It means they know who they've got, and who they'll be dealing with. They've done their homework, and lots of it. This was planned, and that's good news, Ambassador. It means they want something from you, and we can deal with them."

"What could they possibly want from me? I don't have that much money."

"What about Emily's father? Does he?"

She opened her mouth to answer, and then froze. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't seen him since Emily was young."

Rossi nodded patiently, and looked at Garcia. He didn't even have to speak.

"On it, sir." And, her fingers were racing across her keyboard almost faster than the eye could see.

"We'll need a list of enemies, Ambassador. If this isn't about money, then it could be someone who wants to hurt you. If not that, you may not have money, but you do have influence. It could be someone who wants to barter that, so it would be helpful to know your assignments and what you've been involved in. As I said earlier, whoever is responsible has been planning this, they'll have chosen you for what you can give them."

She nodded, and accepted the legal pad and pen JJ slid toward her. Reid got his attention then, pointing to one of the photos with a gloved hand.

"It looks like they were taken in a van. It's too small to be anything but a closet, and the contours aren't right for a room."

Rossi nodded, and sighed. "It's always a van."

JJ was on her feet then, flicking on the TV, and switching channels to a local one out of DC, alternately glancing at her phone.

_"Now, we're going to play that footage again, but for anyone just tuning in, a local electronics store seems to have gotten a kidnapping on tape. No confirmation yet on who the victims are, the DCPD says they're investigating, but haven't identified them yet. You'll see first, the couple walking up the street, then stopping to look in the window, and pay close attention, you'll see the van pull up behind them. Can we roll that footage again, Joe?" _

The anchor looked off screen, and then they were suddenly watching black and white security footage. As soon as Morgan and Prentiss appeared on screen, Rossi waved to Hotch for his attention. He stopped mid-speech, and walked back to the table.

They were holding hands and smiling like any other couple would. Then Morgan tugged her toward the cameras, and they were talking, standing close to each other. There was no sound, so he couldn't tell what they were saying, but they were obviously enjoying themselves. Then Emily kissed him. It was definitely not a gesture between friends, and neither was the lip-lock that Morgan initiated.

Sure enough, as they were busying making out, a van pulled up behind them, and man in masks jumped out. What followed was more difficult to see, both agents putting their backs to the camera, and then the fight started, and everyone in the room collectively cringed. Garcia gasped when they stuck the needle in Emily's arm, and shut her eyes and turned away when they did the same to Morgan.

Then the men in masks-which turned out to be former US presidents-shoved their victims in the white van, and sped off. That was it. Two FBI agents disappeared in less than five minutes. On a well-traveled street, when it was only just beginning to get dark out. Five minutes. Damn it.

JJ was already on the phone, getting in touch with the locals, and Hotch was resuming his phone call, sounding more stressed and impatient than he had a moment ago.

The ambassador was still glued to the TV screen. "She didn't tell me she was seeing anyone."

"I wouldn't take it personally, Ambassador. I'm sure you already know that Emily doesn't share much, and Morgan doesn't either," Rossi offered. The only one of them he was sure didn't know was Hotch; contrary to what Emily told him, he couldn't imagine her not talking to JJ and Garcia about it.

"That was quite an eyeful either way," Garcia commented.

Any further conversation was cut-off by the ringing phone. All eyes went to the Elizabeth's phone, where Garcia had it sprouting wires on the table.

"Garcia, are you ready?" Hotch's voice startled the tech, who scrambled to get the device ready to record and trace. JJ came up behind her, and set a hand on her shoulder.

Ring.

"Ready, sir."

Ring.

"Ambassador." Hotch nodded at her.

Ring—She picked up the phone. "Yes?" She asked.

"Good morning, Ambassador Prentiss." The voice was very deep in pitch, and electronically distorted.

"What do you want?"

"Simple manners to return to the world. Say good morning, Ambassador."

Her jaw tensed. "Good morning. Now, what do you want?"

The voice chuckled, unnatural and warped. "A link to a live video has been sent to Ms. Garcia's email address. You might want to see it."

The tech was more than a little startled to hear her name, but didn't miss a beat, fingers drumming, opening up the email, and clicking the link.

"Oh god." Garcia slapped a hand over her mouth, as the others congregated behind her.

The video was of a poorly lit room, with four men in clown masks, two at the far back, armed with black electric batons, one off to the side, and the other dead center, standing beside Emily. She was on her knees, wearing nothing except her bra and panties, she looked mostly unharmed, but a little out of it.

"We have your daughter, and we have her lover. We require you listen carefully to what we ask, and do as you're told. The first time you hesitate, Agent Morgan will suffer. The second time you hesitate, he will suffer, the third time you hesitate, he will suffer, until we get tired of hearing him scream, and then we'll start making your little girl scream. Do you understand, Ambassador?"

"Yes, yes I understand. What do you need me to do?"

"Not so fast." One screen, the clown beside Emily looked down at her, putting the phone by her ear. "Say hi to mommy, Emily."

She glared at him. "Fuck you, freakshow."

He looked behind him, and nodded at one of the other clowns, then stepped away from Emily. The other clown pressed the baton into her back. She screamed, twitched and fell forward to the ground. The clowns switched position again.

"Say hello, Emily." He held the phone to her again.

She pushed herself back to her knees, and they could hear her breathing heavily. "Hello, mother."

"Are you alright, Emily?" Elizabeth was pale, free hand gripping the table.

"Never better."

"And, Agent Morgan?"

"Enjoying the spa...guys, they're organized, disciplined, professionals, there's five of them, they all-" Her own shriek cut her off. The clown with the baton had come up on her so fast, they didn't even see it.

"You will find her father. He will be at the next call. 2p.m. If you do as we ask, and your child keeps learns to keep her mouth shut, she and her lover will be returned to you, alive and as unharmed as possible. If you fail..." He nodded to the baton-clown.

The call and video shut-off at the same time, Emily's screams and moans in their ears.


	3. Chapter 3

Quantico, VA

10:30 am

"Where is Emily's father?" Hotch asked as soon as the call ended.

"I...I don't know. He left us when she was six, that's the last I saw of him, and as far as I know, the last time Emily saw him as well." The Ambassador looked shaken and pale.

JJ stood beside her, gently resting a hand on the older woman's arm, and directing her to a seat. "We'll find her, Ambassador," the media liaison promised.

Elizabeth breathed into her hand. "They were hurting her, she was in pain, she was..."

Rossi walked over and crouched in front of her. "Your daughter is made of very strong stuff, she'll be okay. But, we do need your help to find her and Agent Morgan."

The far-away look disappeared, and the steel-spined politician reappeared. "Anything."

"We need to know everything about Emily's father, starting from the day you met him, up until the day he left. Even if you don't think it's necessarily important, tell us anyway. Alright?"

She nodded, and both Rossi and JJ offered her reassuring smiles. Hotch nodded at them then, stepping away. He looked at Elizabeth. "Excuse us a minute."

JJ felt like pacing, but restrained herself as she followed the guys into Hotch's office. Reid closed the door, and Rossi was the first to speak. "They went from politician masks to clown masks, is it just me, or is that not entirely subtle?"

"Especially in the context of who they abducted, and who they chose to deal with," Reid said. He gave Rossi a curious look. "You think this is someone hurt by political decisions the ambassador or her ex-husband made?"

"I'd say it's a good place to start, but I get the feeling that won't narrow it down much."

Hotch sighed. "And, it could be someone hurt personally for political reasons as well."

"Reid." JJ turned to him. "How many hits with one of those baton things can a person take before they…" She looked down, and breathed, she couldn't say that.

"Morgan and Emily are young and healthy, and the do regular cardio exercise. The voltage of those batons is pretty low, and—they'll be alright, JJ," he said softly.

She nodded and turned to Hotch who inhaled. "JJ, see if you can get a handle on the press, and work with Garcia to find that store that filmed the abduction. That footage is evidence, I want it in our hands." He turned to Reid and Rossi. "Dave, you and I will question Ambassador Prentiss. I have Garcia searching for Emily's father, but in the meantime, we need to know why these people want to speak with him. I don't want to give them what they want, if it's him around to watch his daughter get executed. Reid, work with Garcia to find any similar abductions, we need to know if these people are professional kidnappers, or have a personal vendetta. I've also arranged for an agent in the Chicago office to pick up Morgan's mother and sisters, and deliver them to the jet. They know you, so I'd like you to pick them up when they arrive."

Reid nodded, though appeared slightly nervous at being the first person Morgan's very worried family would encounter upon landing in D.C.

JJ was ready to turn tail, and start working, but Hotch was wearing a very conflicted expression that kept her and Reid and Rossi rooted. The Unit Chief finally sighed.

"Even though this appears to be about Ambassador Prentiss and her ex-husband, we should search Morgan and Prentiss's apartments...JJ, assist Garcia in going through their email. I'll send a forensic team to handle their apartments." He rested a hand on his hip, and turned away only a second, before looking back at them. "Did any of you know they were involved?"

JJ nodded, she'd known. Not for long, but Emily had confided in her over a month ago, after having had enough pestering about her lack of dates. The media liaison was surprised to see both Rossi and Reid nodding as well.

"All of you knew?" Hotch demanded, unhappily.

"Emily told me no one else knew, asked me to keep it quiet," Rossi commented.

Reid frowned. "Morgan told me the same thing...he said he was really happy."

Hotch then turned to her, she shifted under his annoyed gaze. It had really been a long time since a Hotch-stare had intimidated her. "Emily told me the same, except she did say that Garcia knew."

They'd wanted to keep it to themselves for a while. Part of that, she knew, was because there would be consequences at work. But Emily had admitted that most of it was because relationships were new to Morgan, and they were hard for her. They needed to get comfortable with it themselves before they invited anyone else into it. Knowing the two of them, that was liable to be a while.

Still, she had never seen them together as an actual couple before; Emily was willing to talk about it, but not show it evidently. That video was...wholly unexpected. The sight of them smiling goofily at each other, walking hand in hand, making-out in the middle of the street, it was somewhere due north of weird. But, she couldn't deny how happy they looked together.

* * *

Undisclosed Location

10:30 am

She looked like shit. The clowns from hell dragged her by her arms, and dumped her in the middle of what Morgan had already guessed to be a shipping container. He pushed up from the ground, and ran over to her. Emily wasn't even bothering to move, she was just laying on the floor, breathing heavily.

"How many more times they hit you with that baton?" He asked, running a hand gently over her head.

"Wasn't counting." She started struggling to get up then, and he should have expected it. Emily did not stay down long.

He helped her up, and half-carried her back to the end of the container. Morgan pulled her close and held her tight against his body, like he could actually protect her against the deranged clowns. "What did they do with you?"

"Took me to another container. They had camera set-up, they called my mother. She's with the team, or at least Garcia. They sent Garcia the video link, actually used her name, Morgan. They did their homework on us."

He nodded. "We expected that though."

Her fingers dug into his skin where her hand rested on his chest. "This isn't about the Bureau, Morgan. They asked my mother to find my father..." she looked up at him. "This is some political bullshit involving my parents." Emily stroked his cheek with a hand. "I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault, princess."

"Yes, it is. If you weren't with me, you wouldn't be here right now," she insisted.

"That's true, but I'd much rather be with you."

Her eyebrows arched, skepticism clear on her face. "Oh, you enjoy being kidnapped then?"

He chuckled. "Well, this is my first time, and so far, no, I'm not crazy about it. But, I can tell you this, if I was with the rest of the team right now watching a video of you, in only you underwear, getting tasered by deranged clowns, I'd be going out of my mind. At least, here I've got the illusion I can keep you safe."

No matter how tightly he held her in his arms, he knew that's what it was, a simple illusion. He'd already proven he couldn't protect her twice.

"Wipe the guilt off your face, Derek."

He frowned at her. "You first."

Emily just about glared at him, before a defeated sigh escaped her mouth. "Fine, how about we agree that we'll both stop feeling guilty?"

He laughed through his nose. "Alright, agreed."

They were silent a while longer, Morgan thinking about all the changes the year had brought him. All the changes their relationship had brought him, good changes mostly. Though they'd experienced their share of new couple aggravation, which had come as a surprise to both. They'd already thought they knew all each other's idiosyncrasies, and quickly found that they did not.

They also found they were compatible on a lot: they like their space in bed, no conversation in the morning before coffee (sex is okay), a little alone time was a necessity, running was best early in the morning or late at night, there was never enough dishes to fill the dishwasher, so they hand-washed, and sex is a partner activity, best when both want it and both get off.

"Derek." Her voice broken the silence of their prison, and startled him. He turned to find her looking at him, face tired, but serious. "They're going to kill us."

* * *

Quantico, VA

11:00

"So, how did you meet Andrew Callahan?" Hotch allowed Rossi to handle the questioning, relying on his charm to put the Ambassador at ease.

"I was twenty-four, an intern for a diplomat, Daniel Farnsworth. There was a charity dinner, and Ambassador Farnsworth sent me in his stead. Drew went in his father's place, though he had no desire to be a politician of any kind. He had all the breeding and charm to be one, but chose to enter the business world instead. My parents were country people, I had to work past my lack of connections to get where I wanted to be." She sighed heavily. "He wasn't deterred by my ambition, and back then that meant a lot."

"What kind of business was he into?" Hotch asked, pen poised over his note pad.

"He was a freelance, but well-connected consultant to foreign businesses looking to expand into the American market. Drew was good at reading people, and he knew how to work them. He also liked telling other people how to spend their money, it was like a game to him, he loved the rush."

"So, you met at this party, chatted, and then what?" Rossi asked her.

She actually smiled. "I was completely taken with him. He was very charming. I was mostly in DC then, but he traveled a lot. We dated while he was stateside, and after a little while I started accompanying him on a few trips. We were engaged within a year, and married within eighteen months, but why wait when you're in love, right?" The bitterness in her tone suggested that love was a temporary phase.

"Tell me about the time you were dating, places he took you, friends or acquaintances of his you met."

She sighed. "Look agents, I really don't know how any of this can help you. It was over forty years ago, and don't you think anyone holding a forty-year long grudge would have tried something before now?"

Hotch kept his tone calm and level. "It's already helped, Ambassador. We need to learn as much about your ex-husband as possible before that phone call. They want to talk to him for some reason, and we need to find out what that is, anything you tell us will help."

She still appeared unconvinced. Hotch sighed in frustration, and decided on a different approach.

"Do you remember the day your daughter was born?"

"Of course, I do, Agent Hotchner. What kind of mother wouldn't?" Her face was twisted in exasperation.

"What's the first thing that comes to mind about that day?" He ignored the curious looks Rossi was shooting him.

"I couldn't stop staring at her. I was so in awe of her, of how much I instantly loved her." Elizabeth Prentiss had softened in an instant, the politician swapped for the mother. She looked wistful, and almost a little sad.

"Think of the woman she is today, and tell me you won't do everything in your power to try and save her."

With that, the Ambassador nodded, looking older than she had a moment ago, looking like a mother with a missing child.

* * *

_Sorry this took so long, guys, and thank you everyone that reviewed the last chapter and has been favoriting/alerting (it reminds me to get my butt moving). The next chapter will definitely be up on Monday, maybe even sooner if I get it together. And, for anyone interested, I plan to start posting the sequel to Distorted this week, it's going to be titled, Until These Shivers Subside. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all for the reviews! I'm going to try to get chapter five up on Wednesday. _

* * *

Quantico, VA

12:30pm

Garcia sighed as she stared between her screens. One held Morgan's emails, and text message log, the other held Emily's emails and text log. Her two missing friends, whom she loved like family, but right now, she couldn't help but feeling a little betrayed. Their correspondence told her they hadn't been completely honest about their very secret relationship, even with just a few quick glances she could tell.

"Garcia? You okay?" She spun around at JJ's voice, and found the liaison hovering in the doorway. JJ walked toward her.

"Yeah, just a little confused I guess."

JJ frowned, and looked at the screens. "Is that Morgan and Emily's...?"

"Yeah, and aside from being the world's most normal, boring couple, they've been seeing each other a lot longer than they said."

"I'm not sure which part of that statement to ask about first."

Garcia smiled at her. "I went back three months, figuring that would be plenty, and I only needed a few glances to be able to tell that their conversation wasn't new couple flirtation. So, I went back further, four months, then six months, then eight months, and finally ten months. Ten months, Jayje. How didn't we see it?"

JJ rested a hand on her hip and inhaled. "Are you sure?"

"I may not read behavior for a living, but I know theirs well enough to say when it stopped being business as usual. Well, at least by these emails."

The liaison exhaled. "Okay..."

"I have to pick up dry cleaning, I'll meet you at your place. What do you want for dinner tonight? No, you can't come shopping with me, because you distract me. You want to rent a movie tonight? Have you seen my blue shirt?" Garcia rattled on. "That's the sort of thing they say to each other, Jayje."

"It sounds like normal couple talk."

Garcia could tell it was information overload for her, but pressed on nonetheless. "Yeah, but for Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss is a relationship _together_? I guess I just expected it to be different somehow. Like monumental."

JJ smirked. "Well, with two people that strong willed, I bet you they had some pretty epic fights."

Garcia smiled and opened her mouth, only to be cut-off be her ringing phone. She noted it was an outside line, and clicked a button. "Penelope Garcia, FBI."

"Ms. Garcia, I'm Tom Sterling, Andrew Callahan's attorney. He told me you contacted him, and asked me to call you. Can I ask what this is regarding?"

"Mr. Sterling, it's very important that I speak with Mr. Callahan. It's an emergency, as I told him, his daughter has been kidnapped," Garcia explained.

The man's tone went instantly icy. "Drew doesn't have any children, Ms. Garcia."

"Yes, he does. He has a daughter with his ex-wife, Elizabeth Prentiss. Her name is Emily, she's 39, and she was abducted yesterday evening. Tell your client if he doesn't get to Virginia by 2:00 p.m., when her abductors call again, they will torture her boyfriend, and when they get tired of torturing him, they'll start on her. Understand?"

"Hold one moment, please." Then suddenly she was listening to an advertisement for a Canadian law firm.

"Unbelievable," she muttered. She looked at JJ. "The man had his lawyer call, and that idiot just put me on hold."

"Ms. Garcia?" A different voice in her ear startled her.

"Yes, and if this is another attorney for Mr. Callahan, you can shove it. I need to speak to the man himself, this is his child's life, and-"

"You're speaking to him."

She froze. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, but it's very important you get to Virginia as fast as possible."

"You said Emily's been kidnapped?"

"Yes sir, Emily and her boyfriend, Derek Morgan. If you aren't here when the next call comes in, they'll begin to torture him. If you need the visual to understand that sir, their weapon of choice is a taser baton, and they've already used it on Emily." _And, if you don't come, I'll track you down and remove your testicles myself_, Garica said to herself.

"The visual isn't necessary. I have a friend with a private plane, but even with that, I might not make it by two. I'm in Canada...the flight time. Can you stall the kidnappers?"

She sighed with relief. "We'll try, sir, and if you give me a phone number, I can try to patch the call through to you."

He rattled off a phone number for her, and promised to get there as fast as possible. Garcia hung up, and turned to JJ, adrenaline pouring through her body faster, making her feel hot. "Tell Hotch we found Em's father and he's on his way."

The relief suddenly on JJ's face was enough to make Garcia feel like a rock star. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, maybe they could get through this okay.

And, then Derek and Emily had some serious explaining to do.

* * *

Washington National Airport

1:15pm

It was easy to find them coming though the gate, they were the only ones who looked scared to death. And, were escorted by security. They already had their bags, and Reid flashed his badge at the security officers, who nodded, and released their temporary charges to his care. Fran Morgan looked pale, and was holding tightly to Desiree's hand. Desiree herself looked afraid, but Sarah was more like her brother, wearing a mask of strength and anger. He imagined that demeanor came from their father, it would fit for a cop.

"Mrs. Morgan, let me get that for you." Reid greeted, and took her bag.

"Thank you...do you have any news?"

"Not much I'm afraid. I'm going to take you and your daughters to a hotel to check in, and then back to Quantico."

There was nothing comforting he could tell them, so he chose to tell them as little as possible. And, absolutely no statistics. JJ and Hotch had both reminded him before he left not to regurgitate a single statistic. It was rare numbers made anyone feel better.

"Why can't we go straight to Quantico?" Sarah asked, tone harsh.

"Well, the Bureau doesn't want to lose the reservations, and I'd actually like to ask you a few questions before we get to Quantico." He'd conferred with Hotch, and they both agreed that it was unlikely Morgan's family knew anything, but it was procedure, and being thorough could only help, not harm.

"You don't actually think we have anything to do with this?"

He almost winced. "No, of course not, it's simply standard procedure to talk to the…family."

Thank god, he stopped himself from saying "victim's". He stowed their bags in the trunk, and held the doors open like the gentleman his mother taught him to be, until all the Morgan women had settled themselves. Reid was not a fan of driving, he didn't do it very often, but as circumstances warranted...

They asked him a few more questions on the way to the hotel, which he artfully dodged, and he helped them get checked into the rooms the Bureau reserved for them. They collected themselves into Mrs. Morgan's room, where Reid took a seat at the table and chair set across from the bed, and addressed all three women.

"Were you aware that Mor-uh Derek is seeing Agent Prentiss?" He asked first.

"Yes, she was in Chicago for Christmas." Fran Morgan supplied, looking slightly confused.

It took all his willpower not to let the surprise register on his face. He hadn't known they'd been seeing each that long, or that it had been that serious. Then again, he tended to miss what most other people caught. He pressed on. "Has Derek mentioned anything lately about any concerns he might have had? Anyone bothering him or Emily?"

She glanced at her daughters, who both shook their heads, then back at Reid. "No, he never mentioned anything like that, and neither did Emily."

Reid's brow furrowed. "You speak to Emily regularly?"

Desiree answered. "Sometimes she answers his phone and we talk a little while, she likes to tease him that she's keeping mama updated on him."

The other two women nodded in agreement, and Reid had to take a breath to think. "Alright, did either of them seem distracted or stressed unusually to you?"

He watched the girls shift around, glancing at each other and their mother, who was looking away, eyes unfocused as if trying to decide something. There was something there, something the Morgan women weren't sure they should divulge. Suddenly, Reid had to wonder, could Morgan and Emily have known this was coming?

* * *

Quantico, VA

1:50 pm

The ambassador was pacing and getting more impatient and angry as the deadline crawled closer. Hearing her ex-husband was on his way seemed to bring her instant relief, followed closely by extreme agitation. Though, Rossi supposed, if it was one of his ex-wives coming, he'd have probably crawled under his desk by now.

With a bottle of scotch.

The team though, seemed to be handling things pretty well. Of course, they'll all switched themselves onto cop-mode, which made it easier to pretend their guts weren't turning inside-out. Reid was still out with Morgan's family, questioning them before they got here and things got crazy. JJ was running around trying to do seven things at once, as usual for her. Garcia was glued to her screens, and already worked one miracle in getting Emily's father on his way. And, he and Hotch were going over every ounce of information they got from the ambassador and from Garcia's research.

Elizabeth's list of people with grudges wasn't short, but it was also typical for a politician, and not a single name stuck out as capable of abducting two people. It was made up of other politicians and political organizations that she'd pissed off, neither group of which tended to turn to abduction to get results.

Garcia suddenly hurried into the room, and sat at the computer she'd manned earlier, checking on the cell phone, and preparing herself to do what she did best-technical wizardry. She'd brought a second computer in with her, and worked on, well, Rossi had no idea what she was doing with it. JJ wasn't far behind her, cell phone out in one hand, and a legal pad and a few folders in the other. The team seemed suddenly very small.

A knock on the conference room door startled all of them. A young agent poked his head in. "Excuse me, there's a man downstairs asking to see the Ambassador?"

"You can send him up, Agent Thorton," Hotch instructed, sighing with relief. They had only four minutes left until their deadline.

Elizabeth straightened her back, and stopped pacing, choosing instead to stand by Garcia. The tech smiled gently up at her, trying to offer reassurance. They all continued to wait anxiously in silence, only the sounds of shifting paper and clearing throats disrupting it.

The young agent knocked gently again, and gestured a man in. He looked like he'd aged hard, and not a damn bit like the picture they'd tracked down of Andrew Callahan.

"Travis?" The ambassador walked up to him, studying his face.

"Ambassador, it's been a long time," he greeted.

"I wasn't sure Bill would be able to track you down."

"He managed." The man then turned to the curious FBI agents. He was probably in his late fifties, and he hadn't aged well Even without knowing his exact age, Rossi could see that. His skin was thick and worn with a hard life, and his bright blue eyes were somehow trembling with life at the same time they appeared subdued with a 'seen it all' look. Old as he was, his body still bared signs of muscular definition and the young man he once was. This strange man held out a hand to Hotch. "Travis Buchanan."

Hotch accepted. "SSA Hotchner. I think we'll need more than a name, Mr. Buchanan."

Buchanan turned to Elizabeth. "You didn't tell them anything?"

"I thought it best to leave that up to you." In seconds her eyes went from showing visible pain to being completely shield over, not unlike he'd seen in her daughter.

Buchanan looked back at them. "I brought Emily back home the first time this happened."

"First time," Rossi blurted, turning to Elizabeth. "Emily's been kidnapped before?"

She didn't get to respond. The phone was ringing.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you all very much for the reviews, you're all awesome! I'm going to try to get the next chapter up Friday or Saturday. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Seoul, South Korea

September 11, 1976

11:00 am

"Michael, what am I doing today after dance?" The little girl looked up at from her dolly to the front of the car.

Michael was her combination driver and bodyguard, a secret service employee picked to protect the young child of the USA's diplomat in South Korea. It was a Sunday, which meant dance in the morning, and the afternoon was whatever her mother decided.

"Lunch with your mom, sweetheart. Then maybe the park." He looked into the rearview mirror and smiled at her.

Emily liked him. He was older than her mommy and daddy, but younger than her grandparents, and he was dark-skinned with a big, friendly smile, and a deep, throaty chuckle. He showed her magic tricks, and told her stories about other jobs he'd had. She'd once asked him why he was with her, instead of someone like her mother. He'd told her that he was simply tired, and that protecting her was much more fun than some stuffy politician.

She'd giggled.

Emily's eyes lit up now. "Mommy's not working today?"

He smiled. "Nope, I think she took the afternoon off. It _is_ Sunday after all."

"Yeah, but mommy works all the time."

"Well, not today. Today is all for you, Emily."

She grinned, and made her doll dance, then sobered and looked at Michael thoughtfully. "When do you see your mommy?"

He was momentarily taken aback. "Well, my mother died a few years back."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Michael." Her little cherubic face instantly fell.

He let a beat of silence pass, before switching the topic of conversation. "Say, is that Suzie or is that Rebecca you've got with you?"

"She's new," Emily held up the doll with a delicate porcelain face, dark auburn curls, a vintage buttercup yellow dress. "Her name is Sophia."

"Sophia? Well, she's a pretty thing isn't she?"

She nodded, but suddenly went still staring down at Sophia. "I broke Cecily. Mommy says if I break another one, I won't get a new one."

She'd broken Tara a month ago, and Claire was her first fancy doll, broken almost a year ago. But, it wasn't her fault, the dolls heads broke _so _easily.

"Well, I'd say that's fair, wouldn't you? You've got to be careful with your dolls, Emily."

"Yeah, I guess so." Her tone was as petulant as the pout on her lips, but it didn't last long, as she looked up at the traffic of Seoul. They had stopped at a light, a dark-colored van was beside them, and Emily pressed her face against the window, studying everything.

And, then it took minutes.

Four men burst out of the van, clothed head to toe in black, and carrying very big guns.

"Emily, get down!" Michael shouted at her.

Terrified, she undid her seatbelt and hit the floor, curling into a ball as gunfire shattered the front driver's side window, and pelted the car. Pebbles of glass and blood spray landed on her tiny form crouched behind the driver's seat. The window above her shattered inward, and showered her. Emily began to cry, and started to crawl away when the door opened, Sophia clutched tightly in her hand.

Hands grabbed at her, and Emily kicked and screamed. Two big hands clamped over her skinny little legs, and pulled her backward, and she screamed and squirmed. The broken glass cut into her hands and knees, and she began to cry harder. The last thing she saw as she was pulled from the car was Michael slumped over the steering wheel, his head half blown away by bullets.

* * *

Undisclosed Location

May 24, 2011

1:50pm

Morgan moved along the edge of the box, knocking gently with a knuckle, looking for any signs of structural weakness. Emily was on the opposite end, doing the same, though with a little difficulty. She was still weak and tired from the tasering, but was refusing to admit it. Her heavy breathing as she forced her body to move admitted it for her.

It was a standard steel shipping container, empty except for them a battery-powered lamp, and a plastic bucket. He could guess what they were supposed to use that bucket for, but preferred to remain willfully ignorant. Having to do his business in front of Emily was certainly not the worst thing in the world, but no matter how intimate you are with someone, it's an activity that doesn't need to be shared. Of course, they weren't being fed, and given water, so it wasn't looking terribly likely that either of them would have cause to use that bucket.

And, they weren't the type to pee themselves in fear.

The standard steel-shipping container was standardly impenetrable by two people with nothing but their bare hands and a plastic bucket. Not one crack, not one overlooked hole. Not that he could see in the dim light, or feel with his hands. Morgan was cold and sore, and tired of this whole damn mess. He trudged over to where Emily was sitting, leaning against a wall, and settled down next to her.

She turned to him. "You know, if we survive this, we're going to have really fucked-up nightmares."

He snorted. "I never did like clowns much."

Emily smiled. "Is the great, fearless Derek Morgan afraid of clowns?"

Morgan glowered. "I didn't say I was afraid, I said I didn't like them."

Rather then respond, Emily rested a hand on his cheek, gave him a long kiss on the mouth. Morgan rested his head on hers, and sighed. "We may have a chance of getting out of here, if we shut that light off, and get ready for when they come back...can you fight?"

She nodded, but seemed awfully tired.

"Are you sure?"

"In the words of the black knight, I'll bite their legs off."

Morgan's eyebrows shot up, then he smirked. "That's a nerd thing, isn't it?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Let's just do this."

"That's my girl." He pushed to his feet, and grabbed Emily's arm, pulling her up with him.

With more pointing and hand gestures than actual words, they determined the best places to station themselves in the box. Then Morgan turned off the light, and they were plunged into darkness so thick they couldn't even see the walls of the box. His body was tense as he waited, and he couldn't help but glance over to where Emily was, even though he couldn't see her.

When the door suddenly opened, he sunk further into the shadows, hiding from the light pouring inside. Then the green-haired clown pulled out a flashlight, and their attempt at freedom went straight to hell. They went after Emily first, and Morgan tried to fight his way over, his mind screamed as she moaned against the taser. It only took three clowns and two strikes and she was out of it. The green-haired clown turned to him.

"Stop struggling, Agent Morgan, or we'll hurt her worse." He'd been JFK, and seemed to be the leader of the pack of lunatics.

Still, Morgan immediately stopped. Then pain was radiating through his body like fire shooting through his nerves, and he was crying out and falling to his knees. The yellow-haired clown joined the blue haired one beside him, both armed with tasers.

"Don't. We won't need that." The green-haired clown commanded, he turned to the red-haired clown. "Stay with her." Then his attention was on Morgan again. "We're going for a short walk, you behave yourself, and so will he, got it?"

Still breathing heavily, and his heart racing, Morgan nodded. He obediently walked behind the green clown, the yellow and blue behind him with their batons. Like Emily had, he saw light outside, but it was taking all his effort to keep walking, he couldn't pay attention to anything else. Once inside the second container, he did saw the purple-haired clown at the camera, and grunted when he was pushed to his knees. Blue and Yellow remained behind him.

"Ambassador Prentiss," Green greeted jovially into the phone. "Did you find your little girl's daddy?" He hit the button for speaker.

"Yes, we did. Will you let them go now?" She sounded worried, like she was struggling to hold the emotion back in her chest.

"Not even close. Put Callahan on."

Silence. "I can't, he isn't here yet. His plane should be coming in any minute though."

"Not good enough, Ambassador. Do you remember what I said would happen if you failed?" His tone had gone instantly icy, the voice of a sociopath.

"Please, we found him, and the tech here can patch him through, so you can talk."

Red nodded to Purple. "Not what I asked for. Have Ms. Garcia check her email." Then he gestured to Blue and Yellow.

Morgan had never felt such pain in his life. His body was tense, and spasming, and it felt like his body was on fire. He tried not to call out, but couldn't help himself. Then it stopped for thirty seconds, before it started again. He twitched and jerked on the ground, moaning and calling out, but not begging. Thirty seconds, sixty seconds, they'd stop and then start again. His chest ached and he couldn't catch his breath, and then suddenly, it was over.

He felt nothing.

* * *

Quantico, VA

2:10 pm

Hotch breathed in and out deeply and slowly to maintain his calm. Garcia was already crying, though to her credit, she was trying very hard not too. JJ had an arm around the tech, trying to comfort her, but the pallor of her skin and the frozen expression on her face said she was in no position to help anyone. Rossi was impassive, though his eyes were averted from the screen, which had gone black minutes ago. The Ambassador... she looked a little green. The he remembered why he was pissed at her seconds ago.

"Emily was kidnapped before? Why didn't you tell us that? And, why isn't there mention in her file?" He demanded, tone probably harsher than it needed to be.

Elizabeth looked up at him, shock quickly dissolving to her controlled politician's face. No wonder Prentiss was so damn good at compartmentalizing, she'd had a pro instructing her since she was born.

"It was over thirty years ago, we weren't in the states, the Secret Service handled it, and my ex-husband was the one who hired Travis. Thank god for that, he got her back."

"We need to know everything about that, does the SSA have a file on the kidnapping?" He asked.

"Yes, I believe so."

"I need you to use your connections to get them to dig it up, and get it to us as fast as possible. Can you give us the basics right now, before the next call?" The clown in charge had given them half an hour to get Callahan into the BAU.

Elizabeth nodded. "Of course. It was about a month before Emily's sixth birthday, her driver was taking her to dance lessons. They shot him and took her while the car was stopped at a traffic light. It was a fringe group of North Koreans, they wanted a united communist Korea, and I was the ambassador to South Korea at the time. They determined the best way to accomplish that was to threaten to kill my daughter until I convinced the US to leave South Korea, and let North Korea march in and conquer it. They held her for three days, before Travis rescued her."

"Does Emily remember it?" Rossi asked.

"I don't know how she could forget it, Agent Rossi. She had nightmares for years." When her eyes drifted to the floor, Hotch immediately knew there was more.

"Ambassador? What aren't you telling us?" His voice was calm, but firm. He needed her to know that in this building she wasn't the boss, and her political power meant nothing.

Her eyes were unguarded for only seconds when she looked up, long held grief visible somewhere beyond her brown irises. Then it was gone. "The little girl Travis brought back wasn't the same little girl I kissed goodbye the morning she was taken."

"Did they hurt her?" He tensed at the thought.

"Not maliciously, no. But Agent Hotchner, she didn't speak a word for a month afterward, and it took almost six months before she said a full sentence. She was scared all the time. I transferred to Russia immediately afterward, and Emily rarely left the embassy. This was a little girl who could barely sit still, and loved to play outside and meet other children. After the abduction, the only people she interacted with were myself, her father, her tutors and the therapist she saw three times a week. She didn't even want to eat, I had to feed her nutritional shakes because she was losing weight. After her father left in early January, she hid in her bedroom closet and wouldn't come out for a week, except to use the bathroom."

She could keep her feelings off her face, but her voice was angry with the helplessness of a parent struggling to help her child heal. Thirty years, and thinking about it still upset her.

"When did she start getting better?"

"After her seventh birthday. She played with a couple of the local kids at the party, but she was almost nine and we were in Israel, before she stopped being terrified all the time. And, she was so introverted at the point, it was difficult for her to make friends," she explained. "But, I don't see how that kidnapping can't possibly be related to this, Agent Hotchner."

"It seems unlikely, but we need to keep it in mind. Can you work on getting that file for us?" When she nodded, and pulled out her phone, he gave himself a moment to breathe. JJ and Garcia were watching them, both appearing more upset than they'd been earlier, but trying not to let it show.

The same young agent who'd alerted them earlier, knocked on the door. "Excuse me, Mr. Callahan." He gestured an older man in the door, and disappeared again.

"Drew, thank god you made it. They're going to call again." Elizabeth hurried up to him, though they didn't touch in their greeting.

"Did they hurt her boyfriend?" His hair was grayed and neat, his suit was expensive, and if he didn't scream fake charm, it would have been easy to see Emily's face in the curve of his jaw, the shape of his eyes, and his strong cheekbones.

"Yes, and they're going to ask to speak with you in the next call," Hotch explained. "You have to remain calm, use Emily and Derek's names as much as possible, do not show any anger or sarcasm. If you make them angry they will take it out on your daughter or Agent Morgan, do you understand?"

"Yes, I know the drill." Then he turned and noticed Buchanan. "Travis?"

He nodded. "Andrew. Your family seems to have bad luck."

Callahan looked away. There was something like anger in Buchanan's tone, and shame in Callahan's reaction that told Hotch there was more to the story that maybe even Elizabeth wasn't privy too.


	6. Chapter 6

Quantico, VA

2:30 pm

"Is Drew there with you, Ambassador?" The distorted voice asked.

Rossi watched Elizabeth, Drew and Travis Buchanan all very carefully, studying their reactions, or lack thereof.

"Yes, and he's on the line." She kept her voice steady, her face impassive.

"This is Drew Callahan. What can I do for you?" He had the strong tenor, and condescending tone of a man who'd grown up with privilege, and never wanted anyone to forget that they had not.

"Such a businessman, Drew. Even to the man holding your little girl hostage. Makes it easy to see how you could have left your family, what is it, 33 years ago?" There was humor in the distorted voice, and that was never a good sign.

"It wasn't easy. Now, tell me what you want."

A snort of bitter laughter. "I want to know if you love your daughter."

Drew sighed. "Of course, I love her. Why do you think I'm here?"

Rossi shot him a warning look_. Do not piss them off_.

"Because you feel obligated, because you think coming to her rescue now might fix abandoning her when she was a kid."

"Why do you care what I did 34 years ago?"

A mirthless chuckle. "Tell me Drew, what do you know about your daughter's lover?"

"Nothing except his name, Derek Morgan, I think." He spoke to the ground.

"Would it bother you to know that the man sticking it your little prep-school princess, is a dark-skinned former thug from a Chicago ghetto? Most girls end up going for men like their daddies, but well, your little girl went for the exact opposite. You think what they say about black men is true? Maybe your little girl needed a little more man to make up for not having her daddy around." He chuckled again. "They spend most nights together too. Does it piss you off to know your daughter is spreading her legs for this big, strong, black thug from the inner city?"

Drew inhaled, his body tense with anger, but managed to control his temper. "If you want something tell me what it is, if not let my daughter go."

"What I want, I'll never get," he spit. "What you can give me is your life. I want to see you sweat, and I want to expose all your dirty little secrets, Drew. I want you to remember Korea, I want you to remember your baby girl's face in those photos they sent. I want you to know that _I _remember. I remember _everything_." The man paused, and breathed. "One hour, then I'll call again, and you'll be ready to admit everything. Understand, Drew?"

He didn't wait for an answer, just hung up.

"What was he taking about, Drew?" Elizabeth immediately demanded.

"Nothing," he said quickly, more focused on something else. "Was that stuff about Emily's boyfriend true?"

She frowned. "Honestly, I don't know Agent Morgan that well, he is African American though."

"Agent? He's FBI? Jesus, Lizzie, you're letting her date a cop?"

The Ambassador grew tense and silent a minute, her eyes closed as if she were trying to draw patience from god. Rossi decided to handle it for her.

"Emily is a cop," he supplied. "In this unit actually."

"What?" His face twisted between surprised and pissed, when he looked back at his ex-wife. "You're okay with this? She could get killed! And, a government salary?" He shook his head. "At least, that explains why she isn't married."

Rossi maintained his amused smirk, while his colleagues grew visibly peeved. Elizabeth didn't look much happier, and that surprised him, he'd have thought she'd agree.

"In case you've missed the last three decades, Drew. Emily isn't a child anymore. She's a grown woman allowed to make her own decisions, and you have no right to judge them," the ambassador snapped.

And, that's when the arguing really started. He saw Buchanan shoot the couple a disgusted look and then shake his head. Then a beeping drew his attention to JJ, who looked even more stressed and grabbed the remote.

"Hotch, channel four made an ID on the video." She flicked the channel on, which was barely audible beyond two very angry ex-spouses.

Rossi saw Hotch glare toward the couple, as the news anchor began describing the little information they'd gleaned. Emily's name was what finally stopped her parents' squabbling.

"Prentiss? You changed her name?" Drew looked disappointed.

"When you didn't come back for six months, and signed the divorce papers without so much as a phone call? You bet a I did." Elizabeth was practically seething.

And, so began phase two of the arguing, which was when Reid decided to enter, with the Morgan women in tow. He looked completely unprepared for the chaos, between the yelling couple, JJ and Hotch scowling as they tried to follow the broadcast, Garcia typing away at her keyboard, ignoring everything else, and the strange man in the corner.

"Reid," Rossi directed his attention. He smiled warmly at the visibly uncomfortable women. "You must be Derek's mother and sisters, David Rossi," he said, offering a hand.

"Uh Rossi, what's going on?" Reid looked totally bewildered.

He cleared his throat, put two fingers in his mouth, and blew as hard as he could. Everyone instantly froze and turned to him. "That's better. Ambassador Prentiss, Mr. Callahan, this is Fran Morgan, Agent Morgan's mother, and his sisters, Sarah and Desiree, if I'm not mistaken?"

The young women nodded. Rossi let the full force of his charm ooze out. "Why don't you ladies get acquainted? We're going to borrow Drew and Travis."

Hotch nodded. "Ambassador, we really need that file," he reminded her.

"A friend is taking care of it, it should be hear by three-thirty," she assured.

Hotch nodded, and walked over to Garcia. "Go through Ambassador Prentiss's list of enemies, see if you can connect any of their time in Korea."

She nodded. "Will do, sir."

* * *

2:50 pm

"JJ," Reid called quietly, grabbing her, and letting their supervisors head into the office first. "I really need to talk to you."

She gave a defeated shrug. "It's going to have to wait until we're done."

Reid nodded, and gestured her into Hotch's office, where Drew was scowling and Travis was glaring at him.

"What was the kidnapper talking about, Mr. Callahan? What secrets does he want to expose?" Hotch leaned on his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and narrowed his eyes at the older man.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what some lunatic in a clown costume is bitching about?"

"We have less than an hour, now. We need you to tell us, and you need to be ready to tell them, or Agent Morgan is going to suffer," Rossi insisted.

"I. Don't. Know." The other man was seething, clearly not accustomed to being backed into a corner.

Reid was actually rather lost, he'd missed the last call, just from observing their behavior he could tell it wasn't happy news. And, Drew had a secret.

Hotch went behind his desk, tapped a few keys, and swung the screen around. Morgan's ID photo was in the upper left corner of the screen, and then a video of Morgan being tasered repeatedly. Hotch pointed to the photo and video in turn.

"That is Agent Morgan, and that is what they plan on doing to him if you keep stonewalling."

"I'm sorry for that, but I don't know him, and there's nothing I can do."

There was an almost imperceptible twitch in Hotch's expression. He was pissed. "Sir, if you don't tell whatever secret you're hiding, the 'lunatics in clown costumes' will finisg with Morgan and start doing that to your daughter. Then they will kill her. Do you want that?"

"Of course not, I'm here to help Em, but I-"

The man Reid assumed to be Travis interrupted. "Christ Drew, this is your daughter, getting put through hell for the second time because of _your_ mistakes. If you don't start talking, I will."

"Either one of you would be fine," Hotch commented dryly.

Callahan sighed. "Alright, alright. I got into underground gambling in the states, and when Lizzie got moved to South Korea, I got into their underground games too. I started losing, then I kept losing until I was so far in debt, there was no way I could cover it. I paid what I could, but then I couldn't pay anymore. That's when they took Emily."

"Took Emily?" Reid asked, feeling utterly confused and completely out of the loop.

"Why did the Amabassador think it was the North Koreans?" Hotch asked, holding a hand to Reid. He'd get an explanation later.

"Because it was North Koreans running the game. They'd cross the border at night, pick up a handful of us, cross back, we'd play, and then they'd take us back. That was part of the excitement of the game, the stakes were unbelievably high. You get caught going in or out of North Korea and you're fucked."

"So, why didn't they just kill you while they had you over there? Why kidnap your six year-old daughter?" Rossi pressed.

Reid's eyebrows shot up, and as he listened his mind began reviewing what he knew about child abduction victims. Mostly he was wondering, why hadn't she ever told them?

"Because if I was dead they didn't get any money. If I'm alive and desperate to get my daughter back, and keep the whole thing quiet to protect Lizzie, I'll try to scrounge money up. But, even with that, we still didn't have enough. That's why I hired Travis, he's the only reason Emily is alive today."

"Why does your wife think it was politically motivated?" He could see the stress wrinkles on Hotch's forehead as he asked, and Reid couldn't help but wonder how many secrets Emily and her family had.

"To protect her. I told her the money was to pay them to give Emily back. You know, a bribe."

"Terrorist groups aren't known for accepting bribes, they don't back down unless they get what they want."

Callahan shrugged. "Lizzie didn't know that back then, and it's not like she was thinking straight then anyway. Emily was everything to us before they took her."

"And, after they took her?" Rossi asked.

"She was a ghost…we had a hard time dealing."

"And, I'm sure it was a walk in the park for traumatized child," JJ scoffed. There was anger in her eyes, something Reid rarely saw on her. Callahan glared at her.

Hotch demanded his attention again. "Alright, so who would benefit from you gambling problems becoming public?"

"Oh god, I don't know. My family has been political for years, but I haven't been in a while."

Rossi leaned against Hotch's desk. "That's right, you left your family, and set up shop in Canada for thirty plus years. Why's that?"

"To protect them. After what happened, I figured Emily was safer without me around...I guess that's not entirely true." He looked crestfallen, but Reid just didn't feel that much sympathy for the man.

"Alright, Mr. Callahan. We need a list of enemies from you. Anyone who would want to hurt you from your life now, and your life with Elizabeth and Emily, and before that, everything. Understand?" Under his veneer of calm, professionalism, Hotch was angry and frustrated, and Reid couldn't help a little winced. A pissed Hotch was not a fun Hotch.

* * *

3:10 pm

"He knows Emily and her family, Dave," Hotch said. "And, he has a lot of hatred toward her father."

They were still in his office, but had not too subtly sent Callahan and Travis back to the conference room. This case was becoming a major headache; political connections always made investigative work a misery, add to that people not being truthful, only receiving bits of information at a time, connections to a 33 year-old kidnapping, and two of their own being tortured with electric batons and it was just...very bad.

"Is that what the whole thing with Morgan was about?"

He turned to JJ. "Yes, he was trying to make Callahan uncomfortable, trying to piss him off." Hotch waved Reid over to his desk. "Fill yourself in," he said.

"Did you notice he never used her name?" Rossi asked.

"Which one, neither of them did." Hotch was clearly not happy about that.

"Exactly. Emily's father abandoned her and her mother when she was young, he should be uncomfortable discussing her. But, kidnappers like to use their victim's names, it makes the family uncomfortable. This guy though, he never said her name once, he stuck with 'daughter' and variations of 'your little girl'."

"It could have just been that the killer thought referring to Emily as Callahan's 'little girl' would make him visualize the six year-old he left, not the grown woman she is today," Hotch suggested.

"I think it's more than that, Hotch," Rossi said. "The phone calls with Ambassador Prentiss were almost polite compared to this. He wanted to scare her into getting him what he wanted, but he didn't want to upset her. He was trying to piss Callahan off."

"Yes, but why? He hates him, but what does he hope to accomplish by making him angry."

"We need records of everyone who worked at the South Korean embassy in 1976," Reid suddenly commented, looking up from the computer.

"You think this is someone who worked with Emily's mother?" JJ asked.

"Maybe. They had access to the embassy or the family at the time Emily was kidnapped. The kidnapper said he remembered it, and it obviously had a big impact on his life...was anyone abducted with her?"

Hotch shook his head. "At least, not that her parents or Travis thought to mention. The file should be here shortly, we'll go over it then." He sighed. "Did you get anything helpful out of Morgan's family?"

"Just about their relationship, nothing concerning why they were abducted. They didn't mention anything to any of the Morgan ladies about being followed, or suspicious mail or anything." Reid shrugged.

"I think it's pretty clear at this point that the abduction has nothing to do with any of the Morgans, Derek included," Rossi offered.

Hotch nodded in agreement. "What about their relationship, Reid?"

"Uh, they've been seeing each other for longer than, well at least I thought. I've been told I'm not very observant with interpersonal relationships though."

"Garcia found the same thing going through their emails," JJ confirmed.

Reid nodded. "Emily spent Christmas with the Morgans, and apparently, she's pretty close to his mother and sisters now."

Hotch sensed Reid was holding something back, but decided to let it go. If it was information that could help save Morgan and Emily, he would have given it. He turned to JJ. "Did Garcia find anything else?"

"When we talked, she'd basically just run over the surface of their communications. Other things took priority."

"They still do. At this point, we can abandon any investigation into their personal lives. We need to focus on the kidnapping in 1976, and Andrew Callahan."

* * *

_So, no Morgan and Prentiss is this one, but they will be in the next chapter. Thank you everyone that's been reviewing, favoriting and alerting, and thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you everybody so much for all your reviews on this, it makes me super happy. :) So yeah, Emily's dad is kind of a jerk and he's only going to get worse. Also, I know there's a lot going on, and there's just going to be more happening as it goes, more twists and turns, but I'm happy that so far it seems I haven't confused anyone. And, you'll get at least one answer you've been waiting for in this chapter. Thanks again everyone for reading and reviewing, and thank you anyone who's reviewed one of my little spring cleaning postings!  
_

* * *

Quantico, VA

3:05 pm

"Agent Jareau!"

She wiped around to face one of the agents Hotch had sent to search Emily and Morgan's homes. She'd actually forgotten about that. "Agent Vanderbilt, you finished the search?"

He nodded. "We tagged and inventoried some unusual items, but I don't think any of it is related to the abduction. It was men's clothing and toiletries at Agent Prentiss's apartment, women's at Agent Morgan's, which if rumor is true, it's each other's." He gave her a look that was clearly needling for information.

"Rumor gets around quickly." She scanned the list of items typical of what they'd have collected if they had no leads, and didn't know Emily and Derek were seeing each other. She looked up at Vanderbilt, smirking. "You collected their sheets?"

He shrugged. "Protocol when there's fluids, which there was on both, by the way."

"That's not a surprise," she said, reading the list again. Then one listing on the page stopped her eyes so fast, she almost expected to hear screeching breaks. She looked up. "Thank you, Agent Vanderbilt."

Then JJ started toward Garcia's office, only to be stopped by a voice, again.

"JJ, there you are. I really, really need to talk to you." Reid caught her arm, and barely managed to slow her down.

"I need to see Garcia. Can you talk to me on the way?" She gestured, and kept moving.

"Actually, it would be better to talk about this in Garcia's office." He looked nervous, and JJ couldn't help but wonder if he knew what she'd just found out.

"Oh my god, Jayje, you've got stellar timing, I was just about to dial your extension." Garcia actually had the phone in one hand, and looked like she was about to bubble over. "Hey Spence."

"Okay, does what you need to tell me have to do with Emily and Morgan?" JJ looked at both the profiler and the computer tech as she spoke.

"Yes," they said almost at once.

"Does it involve the prenatal vitamins in both their apartments?"

Garcia's mouth opened, while Reid just looked relieved. It wasn't his secret to keep anymore.

"You knew? How long have you known?" Garcia asked.

"About five minutes."

"Mrs. Morgan told me they were trying," Reid admitted, seeming kind of awkward with the conversation. He turned to JJ. "Does that mean they succeeded?"

Instead of answering, she turned to Garcia. She was too surprised to answered. She'd just assumed an accidental pregnancy happened. Trying was very different. If Emily and Morgan were trying to have a baby together that meant they'd pretty much committed to each other. She was a little hurt that Emily hadn't told them about so much, and she knew Garcia was as well.

"Uh, not according to their emails. From what I can tell, it's only been the last few months, I think the earliest mention I saw was mid-February. He was teasing her for reading books about it, said he didn't need a book to tell him what to do. Sounds like Morgan, right?" The tech grinned.

Undisclosed Location

3:15 pm

Every inch of his body ached, and Morgan felt like he was still trying to catch his breath. Still, he'd forced his body upright against the back wall of the container, and had coaxed Emily back to his chest. She'd been reluctant, afraid she'd hurt him, worried that he should be lying down, but he'd finally got her to cuddle up with him again. His right arm hung loose around her, too weak to hold her tightly. He just wanted to be close to her.

Emily was afraid, he could see it in her eyes and feel it in the way she held onto him. The only time he'd see this from her was the first time she took a pregnancy test-well, the first time she took one with him. Late March, two days after St. Patrick's day, they'd been curled up similarly on his couch, watching the clock tick down three minutes. They'd both been afraid then, for either outcome. They wanted a baby, but if it did come out positive, the happy little bubble they kept themselves in would pop.

They hadn't entirely meant to keep the team in the dark about their relationship, about how serious it was, but he supposed they wanted to protect it. Making it public, made it real, and that's when things got hard, when things got complicated. Their friends had handled it well, if not with considerable shock, and Reid had alluded with a smug smirk, to a conversation they'd had years ago. It wouldn't completely surprise him if women could sense changes in men; hell, his mother and sisters had instantly picked up on the fact that he was seeing someone.

Of course, his mother would prefer they do the marriage thing before the baby thing, but she'd been waiting for grandbabies so long, she was happy either way. That hadn't stopped her from interrogating them about their plans after her grandchild was conceived. Morgan usually kept one eye on city real estate, in case there were any properties he wanted, but now he kept an eye outside the city as well. They'd need a place for their child to grow up in, and they were leaning toward Arlington or Alexandria.

That made him think of something. "Emily, was your mother ever posted in South Korea?"

She looked up at him, frown of confusion etched into her face. "Yes, it was her first posting. I was only five. Why?"

"The last call, the guy mentioned Korea, said he wanted your father to remember it because he did...he wanted him to remember the pictures of you someone sent. Do you know what he's talking about?" That had completely confused him.

"I'm not sure, but I could guess." She didn't explain any further, just rested her head back against his chest.

"Hey," he said, "talk to me."

Emily sighed loudly. "My mother wasn't stationed in Korea for very long, because I was yanked from a car in broad daylight, in mid-morning traffic, after the kidnappers shot the Secret Service agent that drove me around."

Morgan stared at her, mouth hanging open. "You were kidnapped? You never told me this."

"It's not something that tends to come up in conversation...besides, it was 33 years ago."

He tightened his arm around her in a gentle squeeze. "Was it for ransom?"

She shrugged against him. "Political capital is my guess, but I don't know. I never asked...I didn't really talk after he brought me home."

"He?"

"Yeah, Travis. I don't remember much about him except that he seemed like a superhero, and he took me home." She sighed. "He told me I was brave because I didn't shed a tear the whole time I was with him. But, I wasn't brave, I was numb."

Quantico, VA

3:15 pm

"Did you see these pictures, Hotch?" Rossi held one up as he looked at Hotch, wincing.

They'd taken his office as a base, while allowing the families to congregate in the conference room. The SSA file on the kidnapping had gotten to them faster than they expected, but it was less informational than they wanted. Plenty upsetting though.

"Not yet, I've been reading the reports of the SSA agents. I've never seen so many holes in a case file, and there's nothing about Travis in here. One evening they were waiting for another phone call, and then next morning, Emily was in a hospital in Seoul."

"Yeah, I've got the medical file. It's not pretty. Looks at this, this photo is dated a two months before the kidnapping, and this one was taken at the hospital in Seoul." He laid the pictures out on the Unit Chief's desk.

The first photo showed a little girl with dark eyes, long almost-black hair, and a big, giggling grin with two teeth missing. The girl in the second photo was expressionless, except for those dark eyes that screamed 'broken'. She was pale and thinner, the area around her mouth was black and blue, and there was blood smeared over her arms and legs. Her dress was tinged brown, and there was a vomit stain on the front.

"She looks like she's been through a war," Hotch commented. "What's the blood from?"

"The hospital intake form indicates superficial lacerations on her hands, feet, arms and legs, probably from broken glass. There's nothing definitive in here about their origin, but I'm guessing this is the cause." He put another photo in front of Hotch. This was of a terrified child clutching a doll with only broken shards of porcelain attached at the neck. "The kidnappers sent this and a close-up to her parents. That would scare the hell out of me if I was her father."

"The doll was cutting her, but she still hung on to it." It wasn't a question, or even surprise, just sadness. Hotch finally looked away from the photo. "What about the bruises around her mouth."

"There's nothing in here about those. It does say that she came in half-starved and covered in vomit and urine." Rossi was disgusted with the whole thing. He saw the pictures of the rashes on her legs, the reports that said she was dehydrated, that she refused to speak.

Who does that to a child? Lets her sit alone in a room, bleeding, peeing, and vomiting all over herself? Were they really lacking even that much empathy? But, he realized that this was probably the first time Emily learned to shut herself off, to compartmentalize all the scary things in the world. Was this the experience that led her to the FBI, to profiling criminals? It wouldn't surprise him to find out that her desire to save children from her experience led her to the BAU. Emily was always good with child victims.

Hotch shuffled through papers, then sighed, and began to read allowed. "_Caller: You have to get her to eat, she won't eat. If you don't want her to die, Ambassador, you'll convince her to eat. Elizabeth Prentiss: Oh god, let me talk to her. Please, I can make her eat._ Then there's shuffling, and Elizabeth and Emily talking, Elizabeth pleading with her to eat. Emily agrees, unsub reminds her of his demands, and the call ends."

"So, they weren't complete bastards. Emily didn't want to eat."

Hotch nodded. "That explains what Elizabeth mentioned earlier, how she wouldn't eat much even after she was home. It was something she could control, what she ate and how much of it she ate." He looked at Rossi. "You think her refusal to speak stems from the same need?"

"It's possible, it was probably also a distrust in her environment. A way of hiding from it; if she shuts herself off, refuses to participate in it, it can't hurt her. I bet that week after her father left, when she hid in the closet, she didn't speak at all, and whatever progress she had made stalled completely," Rossi suggested.

"That makes sense, if-" A knock cut him off, and they both turned to see JJ at the door.

"The call is coming in." Then she disappeared, and they rushed to the conference room.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry for the delay on this one. My muse seems to have stuck it's finger in a socket or something, because it's been crazy the last week and a half or so. As a result I got side-tracked with other projects (which will be posted this week), and had to get my head back around this story to get a chapter done. Thank you as always to the people who reviewed the last chapter, and thank you to whoever reviews this one. And, FYI Emily is NOT pregnant, I make that clearer in this chapter, at least I hope I made it clearer._

_A plea for help now, does anyone know what Seaver and Prentiss say to each other after Emily gets her on the team, and Seaver brings her coffee in '25 to Life'? It's something like 'thanks for having my back' and 'maybe you'll have mine too'? If anyone can tell me I need it for a story, so please IM me! Thank you!  
_

* * *

Undisclosed Location, North Korea

September 12, 1976

Emily had pressed herself into the back corner of the room, far away from the door. Sophie was tucked firmly in her arms, pressed tightly against her chest. She wanted her mommy and daddy to come get her, and bring her home. But, they wouldn't come, and she didn't understand why. Her mommy had been crying when they talked on the phone yesterday, but she only cried when she and daddy had a fight.

The door opened, and Emily pushed herself father into the corner. She bit her bottom lip, and compacted her small body even tighter as he got closer. There was a bowl and chopsticks in his hand. Her mommy was teaching her how to use chopsticks, but she wasn't very good at it yet. The man stopped in front of her, big black boots barely inches from her. Her crouched down, and stared into her face for several minutes before offering the bowl. She shook her head.

"Eat," he insisted, thrusting it at her.

Emily shook her head again. "No, thank you."

"You will eat," he tried again.

"No." It wasn't the first time they tried to give her food, but she knew better than to accept things from strangers.

The man grew angry then, and grabbed her by her arm, jostling her out of the tight ball she'd curled herself into. He picked up some of the rice from the bowl with his fingers, and moved his hand toward her mouth. Emily ducked her head behind her doll. He grabbed Sophia, and tore her out of Emily's hands, throwing her to the side. The doll landed on the cement floor, her head shattering into a hundred shards.

"Sophia!" Emily cried, voice high with distress.

"Eat!" The man thundered at her, face contorted in anger.

"No!" She crossed her skinny little arms over her chest, and glared back at him.

He kneeled in front of her then, grabbing her face in one hand, holding it tightly as she tried to squirm away. The man set the bowl on the floor, and once again scooped some rice out. He pressed her cheeks together, forcing her mouth open, and shoved the rice in with little concern for her comfort.

Emily resisted, pushing the rice out with her tongue, but he clamped his big, calloused hand over her mouth and nose, as he grabbed her hair and held her head still with the other hand. Eventually she was forced to swallow the rice, and he removed his hand, only long enough to repeat the process. It only took two more mouthfuls of rice before Emily began to gag, her eyes watering as her stomach clenched. The man moved back quickly, as she turned to her right, and vomited, half of it landing on her dress. Her throat spasmed a second time, most of it hitting the floor. The man looked on it disgust.

Angry Korean words erupted from his mouth, and Emily shrunk against the wall, tears still falling down her cheeks. His hands flailed as he railed at her, speaking words she didn't understand. Then he swiped the bowl and chopsticks off the floor, and stormed out. Emily wiped the tears from her cheeks, and tried to clean the vomit off her dress, brushing partially digested bits of rice onto the floor.

When her eyes landed on Sophia, she crawled from the corner, over to the shattered remains of her new doll. Tiny shards of glass cut into her legs and palms, but she ignored them and went to Sophia. She grabbed the doll, already smearing drops of blood on the doll's pretty yellow dress. Emily picked up one of the bigger chunks of the dolls head, the one most of the hair remained attached to, and tried to fit it back on the body.

Tears blurred her vision, her lips trembled aggravating her already sore mouth, and the sharp edge of the porcelain bit into her fingers. Emily eventually dropped the piece, and crawled over to another corner, plopping down and pressing herself against the wall. She situated Sophia in her arms, the sharp edges of her neck cutting her arm. Fear sent a rush of warm liquid soaking her underwear and the back of her dress, over the urine stain from yesterday.

* * *

Quantico, VA

May 23, 2011

"So Drew, you ready to spill all your dirty secrets?"

Ross kept one eye on Callahan, and the other on Garcia's screen, which held the video link from another email the unsubs were kind enough to send. Morgan was on his knees beside the speaking unsub, the set-up of the room much like it had been earlier. Except Morgan looked exhausted already, but still kept himself firmly upright, back straight, eyes glaring at the camera.

Fran, Sarah, and Desiree Morgan were sitting at the table, JJ trying to keep them calm. It had taken all of them to convince the women seeing Derek on the screen wasn't going to help matters, that they were better off not seeing it. The younger women were on either side of their mother, holding her hands, all three trying to control their facial expressions. Drew was next to Garcia, Elizabeth beside him, though unhappily so, and Travis was holding up a wall again. The rest of them were standing around Garcia and Drew.

"Yes, I'll say whatever you want me too."

"Then tell us why your daughter was kidnapped when she was barely six years-old. And, not the bullshit political reason you fed your wife."

Drew turned to Elizabeth, who was staring at him in wide-eyed anger. "I had a gambling problem then, I got deep in debt, and tried to pay them back, but I couldn't. They took Emily when I stopped paying."

"But, it was the North Koreans, Travis had to cross the border to get her...?" She spun to face Travis.

"I did," he said. "But, I knew who I was really saving her from."

"You both lied to me?"

Drew sighed. "I was trying to protect you, Lizzie."

She said nothing, the voice from the phone interrupted them. "Tell her the rest, Drew."

"That's all there is to tell," he argued empty hands in the air.

"Don't lie to me! That isn't even the half of it. You say it, you admit what you did to pay them back!" It was the first time the unsub had showed that much emotion. Rossi shot Hotch an uneasy look.

It was possible Callahan had lied to them, and at this point, Rossi was leaning toward likely. He was holding information back, trying to protect what, he wasn't sure, but if he kept it up he was going to get his daughter killed. Morgan too.

"That's all there is to tell, I don't know what else you want," Drew insisted, getting louder, agitated.

They watched the unsub wave to his cohorts, and Garcia looked away quickly as they began to jab Morgan with the batons. He was clearly trying to swallow back his screams, but wasn't succeeding. He barked short, agonizing yells, gasped and twitched and spasmed on the floor.

"Oh god," Fran gasped, releasing her daughters' hands to cover her mouth.

Then it stopped. "Say it, Drew! Admit the lies you told, and the lives you destroyed to protect your secret, to save yourself. Say it!"

"There's nothing to say! I don't know what your talking about!"

And, then Morgan was yelling and gasping, Fran was crying, Elizabeth was yelling at Drew to tell them whatever they wanted, Drew was insisting he didn't know anything, Sarah was begging Drew, and the Unsub was shouting at him to admit it.

"One more chance, Drew! Then I grab Emily!"

"I have nothing to say, I don't know what you're talking about!" Drew finally seemed panicked.

And, suddenly Morgan was silent, eyes closed and unmoving on the camera. Not dead, just unconscious. Morgan had no known heart conditions, didn't use amphetamines, and kept himself in shape, he'd be strong enough to take electric shock torture. Emily too. Rossi was thankful for that.

There was a loud breath on the other end of the phone, and the unsub spoke almost quietly then. "Emily's turn."

Then he hung up.

Elizabeth was staring in horror at the phone. "Oh my god," she breathed, then turned to her ex-husband. "What have you done?"

* * *

Undisclosed Location

3:45 pm

Emily sat against the wall, her knees pulled up, head resting in the 'v' of her arms. She could hear Derek yelling again, and she hated her family for being the cause. Hated her father. Hated herself. If she thought he might listen, she'd cut him loose the minute they got out of this mess. _If_ they got out of it. But, she knew he wouldn't. She wondered if the child they were trying so hard to create would be better off not existing. Subjecting an innocent life to the Prentiss-family political bullshit seemed rather unfair. Well, she supposed this was more Callahan-induced, as they seemed to be pissed at her father.

She wasn't so thrilled with him either. 33 years and not a word from him, yet he's managing to fuck with her life. And, somehow this involved her first kidnapping experience, still the worst 3 days of her life. Exactly what does it say about a person when she can, after being asked about her kidnapping experience, ask, 'which one?'

It brought up what she'd been wondering since the since the moment she and Morgan decided to get serious. Were they crazy? To think that it could work between them, that a relationship wouldn't completely destroy their work dynamic. To keep everything hidden from everyone except his mother and sisters. To start trying to have a baby after dating just over six months. A big part of that was that her biological clock was ticking down rather quickly, and their window to creating a family was rather small. The other part was that they were genuinely happy together.

Some days, that still surprised her. A player like Morgan actually found enough in her, and she trusted him enough to actually let him in. She'd woken up one morning earlier this month, very much alone in the bed. After she slipped a robe over her nudity, she'd headed down her stairs, amused to find him on the sofa with one of her 'how to get pregnant' books, a studious frown on his face. He then began quizzing her on everything they were and weren't doing.

Her pleasant memory was cut-off by the door screeching up, and the green-haired head clown marching in. When two other clowns followed, dragging Morgan behind them Emily jumped up and rushed over. They dumped him in the center of the shipping container, and back away at Green's orders. Emily moved toward him, only to be violently grabbed, and pulled away.

"Wait, wait!" She yelled. "Let me check on him!"

"His got a pulse, that's all you need to worry about." The head clown nodded, and she was yanked away by the other two clowns, back to the other shipping container. Except this time there was a chair in the middle of it, one that looked like an old dentist's or barber's chair.

Each clown holding an arm, they dragged her over to the chair, and when she began to twist around in an effort to break free, a fourth clown appeared and pressed the baton into her back. She spasmed and jerked, and when it was over was too out of it to fight them as they strapped her forearms to the chair. A leather belt was pulled around her waist, and fastened behind the chair, anchoring her to it.

The green-haired clown appeared beside her then, seeming to leer at her with his big red smile, and high arched brows. He looked into her face, getting closer than she felt comfortable with, and proceeded to just watch her.

"Are you going to kiss me or torture me?" She asked, voice acidic.

He actually chuckled. "You were never my type, Emily."

That startled her, and he seemed to realize it. She could see him smile under the mask. He leaned even closer, his breath hot through the mouth of the mask, hitting her face. "Slip on your magic bracelets, Princess Diana, this one's going to hurt."

Emily's mouth fell open, and she stared at him, realization dawning on her. It couldn't be him, he'd have no reason to hurt her, but...how else could he know that? Then he was suddenly gone, and they were fastening another belt around her forehead, anchoring her head in place. She tried to fight them, but with her waist and arms already anchored, there wasn't much she could do.

Her heart pounding in her throat, Emily considered his last words to her. They'd always been very comforting when she was a child, but now they seemed sinister.

_...this one's going to hurt._


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you all for the reviews! I'll try to get the next chapter up this weekend. _  


* * *

Quantico, VA

4:20 pm

Hotch was in his office, rubbing his aching head, and wishing just a little bit that Emily Prentiss wasn't a part of his team. Then he wouldn't know her, and he wouldn't care so much now, and he would never have had to deal with Andrew Callahan. The man was politician through and through. No wonder she hated politics so much, it had destroyed her childhood. He sighed and closed the file that he'd already read six times, and was yielding nothing new.

JJ had Ambassador Prentiss in her office, trying to calm her down, comfort her, and give hre a quiet, private place to cry all at once. After the initial shock, she'd given Drew the slap the rest of them had been aching to deliver. Hotch didn't know much about Prentiss's relationship with her mother, but awkward as it might appear to them, Elizabeth was still her mother. And, she ached like any mother would knowing that Drew might have just gotten their daughter killed.

Reid was handling the Morgan's family, still in the conference room, and trying to give them a little hope. They were all stuck in shock. Hotch hadn't wanted them in the room during the call, but he couldn't really deny them access when Emily's family had it. He wondered, if Morgan died, would they resent Emily for her unwilling part in it? Or would they forgive her for what she had no control over? Hotch knew her well enough to know that Morgan suffering for his association to her would already be weighing on her conscience.

Dave was in an interrogation room with Callahan, trying to get him to give up whatever secrets he was hiding. Hotch wasn't optimistic, seeing as how threats against his daughter didn't seem to work.

And, Garcia was-he was jerked out of his thoughts by a knock. The computer whiz was actually standing in the doorway to his office, a laptop in her hands. He waved her inside, and tried to ignore the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. He knew how close she and Morgan were, and that she didn't have the same emotional walls as the rest of the team. He was a little proud of her that she was able to hold back as much as she had been, but at the same time, a little saddened. Garcia helped keep them human, he didn't want to think the job was making her less human.

"I think I might have something," she began. "Well, more like a few possible somethings. I finished going through the names of people who were at embassy in 1976, and a few came up as interesting."

Hotch nodded, and sat beside her so he could follow what she was showing him on the screen. A photo of a man in his early thirties popped up.

"Donald Jones-and let me tell you what a bitch it was to search that name-was fired by Ambassador Prentiss on September 2, 1976. He was the translator attached to the Korean Consulate at the time, and lived there full-time with his wife and their two, going on three children, two girls and a boy. Jones was terminated from foreign service after being caught in a hotel room with a 13 year-old Korean girl. In less than a month, his wife divorced him, moved back to the states, and popped out baby number three. She was awarded sole custody of their children, and he was given limited, supervised visitation. He would still have had friends in the embassy and would likely have known about the kidnapping, may have even seen the pictures the kidnapper sent."

"How old was his son at the time?" He stared at the face on the screen, mentally aging him 33 years, and concluding that he was too old to be the voice of their caller.

"4 years-old. The daughter too, fraternal twins. They'd be 37 or so now." She clicked onto the next photo. "Marianne Collins."

She was in her late twenties, very beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed, and with the trademark 1970s Farah Fawcett hair. He looked at Garcia. "Do I want to know?"

The tech chuckled. "The Ambassador's secretary, rumored to have had an affair with her boss's husband, and though she was with Elizabeth in the states and Korea, she did not make the move with them to Russia, lending credence to those rumors. 1977 on, she seems to have dropped off the Earth. I'm still looking though."

"The unsub is male, so put her on the backburner. Anyone else?"

Her fingers danced along the keys until another photo popped up. A man, not much older than Jones, maybe late thirties, and looked the picture of a young politician.

Hotch almost groaned. "And, who did he sleep with that he shouldn't have?"

Garcia smiled. "As far as I can tell he was faithful to his wife, and devoted to his son."

"Nice change."

"Well, not that nice. His wife and five year-old daughter died in a car accident before he moved his son to Korea." She took a breath. "Okay, Garret Bernhardt, Elizabeth's Chief of Staff, who also didn't move with them to Russia. A lot of the information on him is classified, Hotch, but what I've be able to glean is that he was arrested, tried and convicted of treason. Nothing specific on the charges though. I also found a death certificate from 1981, so he was executed as well. I could probably get more information on the charges, but I feel you probably don't want me to do that kind of hacking..."

Hotch was suddenly reminded how Garcia came to work for the Bureau, and silently commended his bosses for their decision. She could probably do more damage with her fingers and a keyboard than the entire team could do armed to the gills.

"No, I have some contacts that I can get the information from." Or at least, he'd try. "Work on tracking Jones' son, and Collins, and give the information to JJ, she can ask Elizabeth about these people." He wanted more information before they questioned Callahan about them. She nodded and went to get up, but Hotch stopped her. "A trace still isn't an option, right?"

Garcia shook her head. "No, they're bouncing the signal from a hundred places, and mirror sites and...no, it's impossible to trace them."

Hotch rested a hand on her shoulder. "You did your best." Of that he had no doubt.

She made her exit, and Hotch went back behind his desk, and picked up the phone. Time to beg for some information.

* * *

Quantico, VA

6:00 pm

Elizabeth had collected herself, and rejoined the Morgan women in the conference room, awaiting the next call, so JJ once again had her office to herself. Elbows on her desk, head in her hands, she allowed herself a few tears before abruptly shifting gears back to work mode. It had been over two hours since the last call, and they were all wondering and fearing the same thing: would the next call they get be from an a state trooper, a city cop, an agent in a field office, telling them the bodies of a male and a female, matching the descriptions of two missing FBI agents were found, and could someone come out to make a positive ID?

Callahan wasn't talking, and Rossi had walked out almost an hour ago, too frustrated to continue pressing him. Hotch had decided to let him sit there and rot until the next call came in. She had no idea what anyone else was doing. JJ glanced up at the knocking on her door, and saw Reid with a padded manila envelope in his hand.

"Security just dropped this off, they said someone left it at the front desk. It's addressed to you." He looked uncertain, and was holding it gingerly by a corner. "You weren't expecting anything, were you?"

JJ stared at the package and shook her head. Reid laid it on her desk, while she dug in one of her drawers for gloves, fortunately finding a pair. She snapped them on, while Reid studied the top. Her name, title, and the units name were printed in neat block letters, letters that resembled the ones on the note to Ambassador Prentiss. Though, all block letters tended to look similar.

She used a letter opened to slice open the side, and then peered inside. A small white box that looked suited for jewelry was inside. She found herself hoping Will was trying to surprise her, but knew he'd never use this method. The man was a detective, manila envelops and block lettering wouldn't suggest romance to him.

"I don't suppose that's a necklace from Will?" Reid looked at her hopefully.

She gave him a look, "Get Hotch on the phone." Then she gently eased the box from the envelope, examined it for an signs that it was dangerous and slowly worked the top off. JJ immediately slammed the back of her hand over her mouth, as her stomach turned over. "Reid."

He turned away from the phone, saw the box, and looked up at her wide-eyed. "Hotch, you need to see this."

The Unit Chief was in her office in minutes, Rossi right behind him. JJ had rested the box on her desk, and was inhaling and exhaling deeply. Reid apparently had better control of his emotions, because he was bent over the box, studying the teeth.

Three blood-covered teeth. And, blood-covered really meant blood-covered, it was all over the cotton used as bedding for the teeth. The unsubs had sent her Morgan or Emily's teeth, after ripping them out of one of their mouths. She'd already called Crime Scene to come to her office and take the teeth for testing.

"JJ, what's going on?" Hotch asked. She simply pointed at the box. He and Rossi started, and Rossi got his emotions battered down first.

"What can you tell from them, Reid?" He moved beside the genius, and tried to study them as he was, but was less successful.

"It's a molar, an incisor, and a canine, top or bottom I can't tell. Judging by the size, it's more likely they're female, and with that much blood, she's still alive." That done, Reid moved away, and averted his eyes from the teeth.

"So, they ripped three of Emily's teeth out, and sent them to me?" JJ asked. "Why?"

"To tell us that they won't limit their torture to electric batons," Hotch said.

She nodded. "But why me? Why not her mother?"

"They're smart enough to know we'd never let a package like this get to her mother. Whether it was addressed to her at not, anything packaged like this would pass though one of us first, and they wanted to pick which one of us." Rossi held up the packaging.

"It's about speaking," Hotch commented, eyes roving over the teeth. He looked at Rossi. "The unsub has been trying to get Callahan to admit something allowed, JJ is the communicator of the team, teeth come from the mouth, the human communicating device. It's about bringing out this secret that Callahan is hiding."

"Then they're plan on calling back," Rossi said.

"The teeth support that," Reid added. "If they didn't want to continue talking, they'd have sent us bodies, not teeth."

"It's interesting though, he chose something that could be replaced."

Hotch frowned at Rossi. "What do you mean?"

JJ felt like she was watching a three-way ping pong match, trying to follow the guys as they went back and forth.

"Well, normally kidnappers send a finger, a toe, or a tongue when they want to make a point. And, a tongue would have still fit with their desire to communicate. But, they chose one of the few parts of the body can be replaced. If she walks away from this, a good dentist can fit implants for her. He's already admitted he knew her at one time...I don't think this guy really wants to hurt her, Aaron."

"But that doesn't mean that he won't," JJ said.

Hotch glanced from Rossi to her. "It does suggest that his plan isn't to kill them though, which is better news than we had ten minutes ago." He then picked up a desk phone, and typed Garcia's extension, requesting her presence. He told her to bring what she had on those people they were looking into.

Elizabeth hadn't been all that much help in that regard. She was still horrified over Jones, didn't know about the affair rumors, and still upset about Bernhardt. Apparently, she was completely blindsided by his arrest, and would never have imagined that he'd be treasonous.

The crime scene techs arrived then, and JJ felt her office getting smaller and smaller as more bodies crammed into it.


	10. Chapter 10

_Alright, I'm feeling a little whipped, so this might be the only chapter I get up this week. I'm also working on a Lauren post-ep, so that should be up by next week hopefully. Thanks for reading and reviewing, and thank you to anyone who reviewed Amazing Grace. _

* * *

Undisclosed Location

6:00 pm

Emily was still trembling. It took them nearly an hour to get all three teeth, before this she wouldn't have imagined teeth pulling to be a long process. After the first one, blood was gushing inside her mouth, and then had to stop it, so they could rip out and next. They shoved wet rags wrapped in ice cubes against the wounds, but it still took ten minutes to stop the bleeding each time. After it was over, and she was violently shaking and her throat ached from screaming, he shoveled ice chips into her mouth. To minimize the swelling.

Not because they were really that concerned about her discomfort, but because, as he said, 'we might have to do this again if your old man keeps lying' and apparently if her mouth was super-swollen it would be difficult to manuver the pliers.

As soon as they dragged her back into the other box, she'd run right to Morgan. He'd come to, and propped himself against the wall, and was imediately horrified upon seeing her. She was covered in blood from her chin down past her bra. They didn't want to wipe it off before the next call, hoping it was scare her father. She was doubtful.

They were huddled in each other's arms, rest against the back wall, too weak to do much else. It was cold, especially without clothes, and it had been over 24 hours since either of them had eaten. But Derek was warm and safe, and for once in her life, Emily let herself be weak. She pressed herself as close to his body as she could get, practically into his skin, and inhaled the scent of him.

"You okay, Princess?" He didn't look at her, he was half-asleep.

"I know him, Derek."

"Who? Green?"

She ran a hand over his chest, tracing his taught muscles. It hurt to move her mouth, but she still forced it to work, and her words came out slurred and with a horrible lisp. "Yes. His father worked with my mother when we were in Korea, I don't remember as what. We were both at the embassy a lot, and Darren was always nice to me...he treated me like a baby sister. I don't know what could have made him so angry."

Morgan turned to her then. "This is not your fault, Emily."

She sighed. "Maybe not, but I am the reason you and I are here now."

He rested a hand on her cheek, his eyes soft, saying what they'd been too afraid to tell each other up until now. He leaned toward her then, but Emily jerked away.

"Don't do that, I taste like blood."

Morgan turned her face back toward his, and pressed his lips against hers anyway. As his tongue swept her bottom lip, Emily found herself opening her mouth and allowing him entrance. It was soft and slow, and everything a kiss should be when it's likely to be the last. And, she wondered when it was that she allowed herself to fall for him.

* * *

Quantico, VA

6:30 pm

Elizabeth's hands were still trembling as she lifted the bottle of water to her lips. No matter how hard she tried to quiet the tremors, they kept running right through her body. The room was disturbingly quiet, the conference room she was never going to forget as long as she lived. Fran Morgan and her daughters were sitting, speaking quietly at the other end of the table. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk yet, they were both far too upset to manage much. The agents were god only knew where, doing god only knew what, in a desperate attempt to find Emily and Agent Morgan.

Drew was…well, he could be rotting in hell for all she cared.

"Elizabeth?" She turned to the voice, to see the kind face of Fran Morgan. "Why don't you come and join us…this isn't a time to be alone."

Her initial reaction was to politely reject her, but something stopped her. She didn't want to be alone right now. She didn't know if she wanted to be around people she'd never met, but alone her mind ran through every horror they might be inflicting on Emily. Elizabeth knew she wasn't going to win any awards for motherhood, that her strained relationship with her daughter was much more her fault than Emily's, but even with that knowledge, she was still a mother, and a mother could only take so much.

"That would be lovely, thank you." She followed the other woman down toward where her teary-eyed daughters were still sitting.

Sarah, the older one, spoke first. "You know what that creep said about Derek wasn't true, right? He isn't some thug."

She nodded. "I met him once, he seemed like a nice man."

Fran frowned. "Only once? Did you know Derek and Emily were seeing each other?"

"No…Emily and I don't talk very much."

The other mother didn't offer criticism. "Derek has brought Emily to Chicago a few times, I've just been so happy that he's finally getting ready to settle down."

"It's serious then?" She asked, curiously.

"Oh yeah, Derek hasn't brought a girl to meet the family since, what Sarah, college?" Desiree said, looking almost amused.

"Yeah, and thank god, she didn't last." Sarah shook her head. "Emily, we love though."

Fran nodded in agreement. "She and Derek are a lot a like, I think that's helped them find an understanding with each other that they haven't with anyone else."

"I always just figured Emily was married to her work…" And, she figured her daughter learned that from her, one of many things she wished Emily hadn't picked up.

"Derek was too," Fran said. "I nagged him for grandbabies constantly, but he'd always find some excuse not to settle down. After he started seeing Emily, the excuses stopped."

"When did they start seeing each other?"

Fran looked at her daughters. "July I think, right girls?"

Desiree nodded. "Not that he bothered telling us until November though."

"He didn't tell you until November? He told me he was seeing someone in September, though he didn't say who," Sarah said.

"No, I guess he did tell me that in September, but yeah, he kept who a secret until he was about to bring her home for Mama's birthday."

"It was a nice surprise," Fran said. "We met Emily while the team was in Chicago on a case, and she was very kind to us. Of course, I didn't expect to see her again, but I'm glad we had the opportunity." She smiled gently.

Elizabeth nodded. "She's always been very empathetic, always cared so much."

Of course, while Emily cared, she didn't trust, which meant she didn't let anyone care for her. Elizabeth held the kidnapping and even more, Drew abandoning them completely responsible for that. How could a little girl grow up to trust anyone when the man that was supposed to love her unconditionally vanished when she needed him most. She'd wanted to kill Drew then, after Emily locked herself in that closet. She'd spent a considerable amount of time then plotting various ways to annihilate her husband.

She cleared her throat then. "Where is Derek's father?"

She didn't really need an answer when a great silence settled over the three Morgan women.

"Daddy was killed in a convenience store robbery almost thirty years ago," Desiree said.

"My husband was a police officer, but he was off duty at the time, and had Derek with him. He tried to stop it, and they shot him. Derek saw everything…I remember getting the call from the hospital. They said my husband died at the scene, and my little boy watched it happened. I hugged him so tight when I got there, I think I came close to suffocating him…" Fran trailed off, lost in her memories of long ago.

"That's why Derek became an FBI agent, isn't it?"

Sarah nodded. "He was Chicago PD first, just like Dad."

"I always beg him to be careful, and he tells me he always is, but I think he's just humoring me," Fran said.

A small smile appeared on Elizabeth's lips. "I tell Emily the same thing, but she stopped listening to me long ago…I remember the day she told me she got into the FBI Academy, I was so upset, I was practically hysterical—she'd never mentioned it before, she knew how I'd react. She assured me that most FBI agents go through whole careers never firing their weapons, that she'd be just fine. I know for a fact Emily has fired her weapon more than once, and god only knows what else."

Fran nodded. "Children don't realize how much their mothers worry about them." She shot looks at her daughters.

"I met Emily for dinner one night a few years ago, and she showed up with healing bruises on her face, and her forearm still bandaged. She even moved like she was still sore. She told me she, 'got into it with an unsub in Colorado'. I was instantly sick to my stomach, and Emily was treating it like it was any other day on the job." She shook her head. She handed argue with her, or cajoled her, because Emily would have just tuned it out, or it would have started an argument and ruined the night, but she still worried, like any other mother.

"Derek is the same way. I told you they're a lot a like. Of course, Emily isn't going to be able to be in the field soon, and she'll have to tolerate some coddling. And, Derek will have to be more careful too, I know he wants his child to have a father longer than he did-"

"Child?" Elizabeth blurted. "Is Emily pregnant?" Her stomach was instantly in knots, not unlike that night a few years ago.

"Oh, not yet, but they've been trying for a couple months now," Fran said, patting her hand.

Elizabeth blinked, too stunned to comment for a minute. "Please tell me my daughter didn't get married without telling me.

"No, they aren't married. According to them, they don't feel like it's necessary."

"They're just scared," Sarah said.

"Well, we have to let them do things their own way, don't we?" Fran said.

* * *

September 3, 1976

Seoul, South Korea

Emily sat by herself in the living room of the Ambassador's residence, snuggled into the pillows on the sofa. She had a book in one hand, and Cecily curled in her arm, the dolls golden banana curls pouring over her hand. Many of the words in the comic book would have been too difficult for her, even if it wasn't in Korean. But, she'd already read through all the English books they brought, most of which were too easy for her anyway. Emily was already reading at a second grade level, and Daddy told her to ask Santa for 3rd grade reading level books for Christmas.

Comic books though, didn't really need words. She could just studying the pictures and put the story together in her head, and they were easier for her parents to find than books in English. Her attention was pulled from the comic by the sound of the front door opening, and she listened for familiar steps. Once she'd placed their owner, her eyes went back to the book, and she wasn't surprised when someone plopped down on the couch next to her.

"Hi Darren." She looked up at him and smiled. He was eleven years-old, but still liked to play with her.

"Hey Emily, what are you reading?"

Rather than give the name she didn't know, Emily held up the comic.

Darren looked mildly confused. "It's in Korean."

"I'm looking at the pictures," she explained. "I ran out of books and comics in English." Not that her parents gave her many American comics, they thought they were trash.

"That works, I guess...I just got some new comics in the mail, I'll bring them over when I'm done."

Emily's eyes lit up. "Did you get the new Wonder Woman?"

Darren leaned toward her and grinned. "I got the last two, _and_ the newest two Spider-Man, _and_ I even got a few Dracula ones. Think you can handle those?"

Emily stared back at him, crossing her arms as best she could while still holding her comic and doll. "I won't get scared."

"Okay, but if you do, you don't tell your parents you got them from me, okay?"

"I won't get scared," she insisted.

Darren chuckled. "We'll see."

Then their conversation was cut off by the front door opening once again. She didn't need to listen for feet, because she could already hear her parents' angry voices. She held Cecily tighter as her mother stomped up the stairs first, followed by her father. They're bedroom was above the living room, and both kids looked up toward the ceiling as the yelling started.

It wasn't an unusual occurence, but Emily hated when her parents fought. They sounded so mad at each other, and she never knew why. She sunk down into the sofa, and turned to look at Darren. It wasn't the first time he'd heard the fighting either, and he told her what he always told her.

"Put your magic bracelets on, Princess Diana, this one's going to hurt."

Emily mimicked sliding Wonder Woman's bracelets onto her wrists, and when she crossed them, Darren smiled and made the motion with her. When Wonder Woman crossed her bracelets, they generated an invisible shield to protect her against attacks.

Upstairs her mother cursed and slammed a drawer, and Emily's eyes pricked with tears. Darren touched her arm, and drew her attention from the fight.

"Come on, we'll go over to my house," he said quietly, holding out his hand.

Emily took it and shimmied off the couch, leaving her comic book behind, but keeping Cecily tucked under her arm. It wouldn't be the first time she sought refuge at his house while her parents waged a war in their bedroom. Darren's parents didn't fight, his mother was dead.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you everyone that voted for me/my stories at the CM Fanfic Awards, that made my day! And thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter!  
_

* * *

Quantico, VA

6:20 pm

"Oh, too much chaos," Garica groaned, walking into her office with Hotch behind her. She'd arrived at JJ's office only to be faced with too many bodies jammed into too tight a space. Hotch had shaken his head, and pointed her back to her office.

"You said you had something?" He asked, standing beside her.

"Yes, I found out what Marianne Collins has been doing the last 35 years."

Hotch looked surprised. "And, what's that?"

"Besides Emily's dad?" Garcia grinned.

"The rumors were true?"

"Oh, I'd say definitely. When Ms. Collins left Korea, she joined up with Drew Callahan in Canada. Eight months later, she gave birth to a baby girl, Lillian Rebecca Callahan. She was Marianne Callahan then, by the way...and two years after that, they welcomed baby girl number two, Susan Jayne Callahan. I've found marriage certificates for both girls, and three birth certificates with them listed as mommies. All Canadian. Oh, and I'm guessing Marianne and Drew are still married, because I haven't found a record of a divorce." Garcia was feeling rather disgusted by the man, and rather sympathetic toward her friend.

Sure, her parent's divorced when she was a kid too, but Reynaldo Garcia was the best step-father a girl good ask for, he was really the only father she knew. Elizabeth Prentiss never remarried.

"How come these didn't come up in the search on Callahan?"

"There's no father listed for the girls, and they go by Collins, and Marianne and Callahan got married on some tiny Caribbean island. I'm guessing as a precaution, considering what happened to Emily because of him." Twice, she added silently.

Hotch nodded. "Can you print me copies of Callahan's marriage certificate, and the birth certificates for his daughters?"

She handed him pages. "Already done, Bossman." He offered her the barest hint of a smile, which was a gift from Hotch. Then she said what was on her mind. "Emily never mentioned having sisters."

Hotch looked up at her. "I doubt she knows they exist...They probably don't know she exists either."

"Is it wrong that I hate this guy?"

"No." It was a short, simple answer, very Hotch, but also not quite what she expected. "Grab your laptop," he instructed then, turning to leave.

Garcia grabbed it, and followed him, no idea where they were going now. She was really confused when they left the BAU, but started to understand when they entered NCAVC's territory and headed toward their interrogation rooms. The BAU didn't have their own, since they operated mostly in the field. Hotch opened the door to an observation room and gestured her in.

The first thing Garcia noticed was Rossi looking pissed, standing and leaning against the back of a chair, and the second thing was Callahan looking unbothered. Rossi went to the door then, and waved at someone or something. One of the Crime Scene guys from JJ's office came in, a small box in his latex-gloved hand.

"Oh Jesus, what the hell is that?" Callahan pushed away from the table.

"Teeth. Your daughter's. The kidnappers are trying to make a point, you want to take a guess at what that might be?" Rossi asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh god," Garcia turned to Hotch. "They pulled Emily's teeth out?"

"Yes." He took her earpiece-speaker out, and handed her another one to put in. "You speak into that, it goes directly to this." He held up a tiny little earpiece, which he promptly shoved in his ear. "If I say something, look it up, and talk to me, okay?"

"Got it." She nodded, and watched Hotch join Rossi in the interrogation.

"Come on Drew, talk to me, because the next call comes in, you'll be spilling your guts to them," Rossi coaxed.

Callahan looked uneasily at the box. "Do you think they'll kill her?"

"They'll kill Derek first, then they'll kill Emily." It was so matter of fact, Garcia had to remind herself that Rossi was just acting.

Someone knocked at interrogation, and Hotch handed Rossi the papers before answering it, and then stepping out to talk to whoever was there. Garcia could hear him answer a phone, and then he shut off communication between them.

"I'll be damned..." Her attention went back to Rossi. "You really were screwing your wife's secretary, you married her even, and had two kids."

"Leave them out of this."

"Now, I'm pretty sure Emily doesn't know she has sisters, do Lillian and Susan know they have a big sister?" Rossi sounded like he wasn't almost enjoying this.

"No, they do not." Callahan had gone from supremely confident to angry in seconds.

"What are you afraid of, Drew? That your little girls will find out you were cheating on your first wife with their mother...or that you abandoned a traumatized and terrified six year-old months after she'd been kidnapped-because of you-and completely cut-off contact?"

"It wasn't like that," he objected.

"You know, as wives, you girls would probably have a hard time forgiving the former, but as mothers, I don't know that they could forgive you abandoning your own child."

"Damn it! It wasn't like that, I did not abandon Emily!" He slammed his fist down on the table.

"Then what was it like, Drew! What do you call it!" Rossi got in his face.

"I...I was protecting them, Lizzie and Emily." He'd grown very quiet.

"From what, Drew? What made you abandon your little girl?"

He didn't answer just rested his head in his hands. Hotch chose that moment to burst in, looking more furious than Garcia had ever seen. He got right in Callahan's face.

"Garrett Bernhardt was innocent wasn't he? You set him up?"

Drew looked incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"They found evidence that he gambled, and gambled a lot with the wrong people. That he lost a lot, does this sound familiar, Mr. Callahan?"

He shrugged. "So we had the same vices."

"He couldn't pay them back, so he began giving them information about American and South Korean security measures. Information you could have gotten from your wife's job, you would have had access to her office. It was you that was leaking information, Mr. Callahan, wasn't it?" Hotch didn't let him answer, but pressed on. "And, what? You tried to end the arrangement? Is that why they took Emily? They owned you and they wanted you to know it, so they kidnapped your daughter, and sent you pictures of her bloody and filthy and terrified!"

Reid suddenly burst though the door, earning twin glares from his supervisors. "A call is coming in."

* * *

Quantico, VA

6:45 pm

"Are you ready to talk yet, Drew?" So far, they had no visual, but the slightly deranged tone to the unsub's voice gave Reid a bad feeling.

"You want to know about my wife, is that it?" There was strain in Callahan's voice, he wasn't going to hold out much longer.

"You mean Marianne, no I already know about her. Remember, I was the one that walked in on you riding her on your living room sofa, while Elizabeth was out of town, and Emily was at a dance lesson. You realize you fucked your mistress on the couch your little girl curled up on to read books and play with her dolls?"

"What? Who the fuck are you? I don't remember you."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. My mother and my sister were killed in a car accident three months before we moved to Korea. Emily became like a baby sister to me...I hated Charlotte when she was alive, she was always such a pain in the ass, but then she died, and I hated myself. Emily was a way for me to make up for how I treated Charlotte, so I played with her and when you and Elizabeth were re-enacting Pearl Harbor in your bedroom, I brought her over to my house so she didn't have to hear it. The first time it happened, you couldn't find her, Elizabeth was hysterical until you found her at my house. Emily had fallen asleep on the couch while we were watching cartoons, and Elizabeth scooped her up and was hugging her and kissing her like she hadn't seen her in a year. And, do you know what you did, Drew? You looked at me and asked why an 11 year-old boy would hang out with a five year-old girl. Like I would have ever hurt her...do you remember me now, Drew?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I do. Is that why you're doing this?"

The green-haired clown snorted. "No, I knew you were a tool even then, I let that go. But I'm wondering, Drew, do you remember my father?"

"Yeah, he was convicted of treason if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, he was. They came to our home and dragged him out in handcuffs, handed me off to some welfare worker. You know, those nights they said he disappeared to gamble and trade US and South Korean government secrets, he was home with me. He never missed a night, not one, not after my mother and sister died. He knew he was all I had. But, they wouldn't listen to an 11 year-old who was scared of losing the only parent he had left. I need to hear you say it, Drew. I need to hear you admit what you did."

"I didn't do anything, I'm sorry about your father, but that's not my fault. Now-"

"No! No! No!" He was pissed, and soon they heard shuffling on the other end of the phone. "Tell Ms. Garcia to check her email."

Reid listened to what sounded almost like a door sliding open, like one on a garage or something similar. Then Garcia gasped, and then all crowded around her. The video wasn't stable like it had been, be mobile and shaky, like it was matching the fury in the unsub's voice. And, there they were, curled up together on the far end of what looked like a shipping container. Emily and Morgan squinted at the camera light, and unwound themselves. The camera stabilized.

The head unsub stood off to the side, while two of his companions went toward Morgan and Emily. Morgan actually looked weak, and it was startling to see him like that, somehow more startling than seeing Emily covered in blood. It was dried and flaking off it places, and she looked like she'd walked out of a vampire movie. She angled her body so she was positioned almost in front of Morgan, attempting to protect him.

A third clown joined the two, as they attempted to pull the couple apart. It wasn't that hard, they were both weak, and soon two clowns were hauling Morgan away. Emily began to cry out then, as she fought off the clown holding her.

"No, no, no! He can't take anymore! Take me instead!" She broke from the clown, and rushed after the others, trying to pull Morgan away from them. Her words were mushy in her swollen mouth, and a slight lisp accompanied them. "Please! Please, take me instead!"

"Sorry, not your turn yet," the green clown commented from his position.

Emily turned toward him, and ran over. "Darren, please, please don't do this! Derek doesn't deserve this! He isn't part of this! Please!"

He just shook his head. Then he nodded at the others. They watched Emily see the batons come out, and then practically launch herself at the other clowns, fearless, desperate, or both. One clown hit her with his, and her body jerked and spasmed before crashing into a heap. The third clown grabbed her, and restrained her in the minute or so it took her took get her bearings. Then they hit Morgan with the batons, his screams of pain echoing through the room.

"No! Stop! Stop! Please stop!" Emily screamed and begged, tears running down her face as she struggled against the clown holding her. It was only seconds before the unsub motioned them to stop.

He turned to the camera. "Say it, Drew. Admit what you did, or you get to watch your daughter breakdown as shove those batons against Agent Morgan's body until his heart stops beating."

Reid watched Drew glance around the room, mouth open, eyes wide and completely lost. He looked to Hotch and Rossi for guidance, but their faces were blank. Garcia had streams of tears running down her cheeks, but didn't seem to care. JJ had a hand over her mouth, and was wiping at her eyes. All three Morgan women were crying and holding each other, while Elizabeth looked like she'd checked out, unable to deal.

"Say it, Drew. 10 seconds." The psychotic clown on the screen pulled his attention back.

"Damn it, say whatever he wants you to say!" Emily yelled, looking at the camera. They followed the quick movement of her eyes to the other clowns, their batons hitting Morgan. Then her eyes darted back to the camera. "Don't let them do this! Please, don't let him die! Please! Please!"

"Alright!" They were all surprised when Callahan finally relented. The clowns moved away. "I had a gambling problem, and I got really deep into debt. The game was with the North Koreans, and they gave me options: pay back the money, which I couldn't do, use Lizzie's position to get information that I would give to them, or get my will in order. So, I gave them information, nothing too significant, just enough to make them happy. It went on for three months before I told them I couldn't do it anymore. It was the morning after that, that they took Emily."

"And, you ran away to Canada, and let an innocent man be executed for your crimes," Darren finished.

"Yes, I did," Callahan admitted grudgingly.

"Agent Hotchner." The unsub asked, surprising them all.

The Unit Chief spoke into the headset he was wearing. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Can Drew be prosecuted for a crime a man was already executed for?"

"They'll investigate, I've already had someone from our office contact them, but without more evidence, it's unlikely they'll prosecute."

"And, the confession is coerced...Thank you for being honest with me, Agent Hotchner."

"You're welcome," Hotch managed, but his face was set in an uneasy frown.

Then the screen went blank.

"What? Oh, oh my," Garcia said, fingers moving faster over her keyboard.

"What is it?" JJ asked, wiping at her eyes.

"He-he removed half his security, what stopped me from tracing him earlier."

"You can trace him now?" Hotch asked.

Her mouth opened and she stared at him. "Yes, yes I think so."


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This story is winding down, there should only be two more chapters, and I'll address more of what happens to Callahan in those chapters.

* * *

Undisclosed Location

7:30 pm

Emily had come to first, and was cradling Derek on her lap. Darren had hit them with the batons anyway, knocked them out for a little while. He was sitting on an upturned bucket in the corner now, and she was studiously ignoring him. To say she was pissed would be an understatement. She felt for him, really, but he had no reason to take that out on Derek. And, now they were just hanging out there, for what, she didn't know. Though the gun in his hands suggested it wasn't something she was going to like, and he was still wearing the clown mask.

Morgan was breathing steadily, and his pulse sounded normal, but he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. She wasn't much better, and her entire jaw hurt, but worrying about him made it easier to ignore.

"Are you going to kill us?" She finally asked.

"Gun's not for either of you."

She twisted to face him. "Then who? And, if you aren't going to kill us, what _are_ you going to do with us?"

"Your team should be showing up soon."

Emily was taken aback. "I don't get it, Darren. What's going on? Where are your goons?"

"Not goons, mercenaries, and they're gone." Then he chuckled. "Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that you remembered me, Emily. You were pretty messed up after Travis brought you back...and young." He was completely calm now, and experience told her that was just as dangerous than him being hysterical.

"You knew Travis?"

"I talked to him a couple times when he was looking for you. I told him about your father and your mother's secretary."

"What about them?" Keep him talking, she told herself. If the team was really on the way, keep him talking.

He looked surprised. "You really don't know do you? You didn't know any of it?"

"If you mean that your father was arrested and executed for treasonous crimes that my father committed, then no, I didn't know about that. Nor did I know that he had a gambling problem." She apparently wasn't a very observant five year-old.

"Do you remember the blond that worked with your mother in Korea?"

"It was 35 years ago, there have been a lot of blonds, brunettes, redheads, and one intern with rainbow streaks."

He smirked. "Well, this one kept lollipops on her desk, and didn't approve of your precociousness. Thought you were a handful. She made you sit and be quiet for ten minutes before she'd give you a lollipop."

Her mouth opened. "That woman? What about her?"

"Your father was cheating on your mother with her. He married her eventually."

Part of her wanted to be surprised by that, but if she could accept that the man commit treason, adultery was not that shocking. "Well, he was a bastard."

Darren just nodded, and ran a hand over his head, tangling his fingers in the green tufts of hair on the mask.

"Why are you still wearing that?"

He smiled through the mask. "You read behavior, Emily; you tell me."

"No, I'm not playing games with you." She turned back to Morgan, running a hand over his head, fingers gentle on his cheek. She looked at Darren again. "You know Andrew won't be with them when they come."

He nodded. "Gun's not for him either."

Emily rolled her eyes at his cryptic his replies, and put her back to him once more. She tried to think of all the things they'd do when they got out of that damn box. A short vacation was a must. Lying on a beach together with the sun beating down on them, eating big dinners of fresh, local cuisine, and making love all night long. Well, maybe not all night; they weren't twenty any more, and both of them liked their sleep.

Maybe make a baby.

They'd been considering fertility treatments lately, hoping maybe if she boosted her egg production they'd have a better shot at hitting the mark. But, Derek was being surprisingly squeamish. The man with the tattoos could take a needle, but balked at the idea being the one wield the needle. She assured him that if they started hormone injections, the doctor would train him how, and start him on a piece of fruit first. He'd said that he could stick a needle in an orange without any training, but he was much too fond of her ass to be sticking sharp objects in it. She'd told him to get over it.

"Do you remember when we used to play superheroes?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, having been so focused on the memory. "A little, I guess. You liked to be Spiderman or Superman."

"And, you were always Wonder Woman."

"It's not like I had many options."

"I should have figured you'd grow up to be a cop."

Emily raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Because I liked to pretend I was Wonder Woman when I was five? By that rationale you should be a cop too."

He didn't get to answer, the humming of car engines approaching distracted both of them. They got louder and then cut completely, followed by the slamming of doors.

"Did you know that I asked your mother to adopt me? After they arrested my father?" He paused but not long enough for her to answer. "But, she was still too shaken to handle a big decision like that. They placed me with a foster family in Florida."

"I'm sorry for that, but as you said, she had her hands full with me." Emily watched him turn the gun over in his hands. Was he planning on killing one of the team? No, he'd have no purpose. He could have lied, and planned to kill them, but she didn't think so. Then it hit her.

"I guess I was more Dracula than Spiderman," he said, and before she could even react, he put the gun against the mouth of the mask and fired.

The boot steps she heard out side froze, and then began jogging toward their location. Emily heard the door burst open, but was unable to rip her eyes away from the bloody, destroyed clown mask.

* * *

They raced through the junkyard, toward the sound of the gunshots. This was where the trace led the to, after Darren Bernhardt had removed much of the security on the last call, and Garcia was finally able to get a location. It was good news, and yet, it wasn't. His plans had come to an end, and that might be very bad for Prentiss and Morgan.

There were three shipping containers, and slowly the group moved around to examine them. One was open, and held a discarded video set-up. The other two were closed, and Hotch motioned JJ and Rossi to take one, while he and Reid took the other. HRT moved in to open the doors and back up both sets. He nodded to HRT, and they quickly yanked the slide door up, sending light pouring into the container.

A figure squinted at the far end, relief hit Hotch with such force it actually made him nauseous. Prentiss held an arm up against the light, but continued to gently stroke Morgan's head with the other. He was either unconscious or dead, and Hotch suddenly felt nauseous for an entirely different reason. His gaze shifted to the figure half fallen off a plastic bucket, only feet from the two agents.

"Emily?" Reid said gently, approaching her. They couldn't be sure of her emotional state, if Morgan was dead it could be very unstable.

"He's alive," she said, sniffling. "He needs a hospital."

He and Reid glanced at each other, both releasing a breath. It kicked him back into gear, and he quickly spoke into his wrist-piece. "We've got them, they're alive. I need paramedics in here now."

Rossi's voice crackled back at him. "Thank god for that. We've got what looks like Bernhardt's residence, the guy had some serious problems, Hotch."

"He's dead, killed himself. I'll join you in there as soon as we get them on their way to a hospital," he said, moving closer to his abused agents. Reid was already kneeling beside her, holding her hand, so Hotch moved over to the unsub.

He was still wearing the clown mask, but now part of it was blown away, and blood leaked from the entrance wound. Hotch pocketed the gun, a 33, and examined him for a pulse. It was pretty much unnecessary, but just to be thorough.

"His name is Darren Bernhardt." He turned to find Prentiss watching him. "His father worked with my mother, we were friends when we were kids." He saw betrayal and pain in her eyes, and Hotch knew there would be more to come yet.

"We know, Garcia looked at people who were in South Korea with your mother," he paused, "You never told any of us you were kidnapped as a child."

She sort of shrugged, and looked down at Morgan. "It was a long time ago."

All three agents turned then to see paramedics rushing in with a gurney. JJ and Rossi came in with them, the former with a wool blanket in her hands. The paramedics parked the gurney next to Prentiss, shooing Reid out of the way, and began to examine Morgan, who Prentiss still held in her lap. They carefully and quickly took his vitals, and then gently coaxed Prentiss into resting him on the ground. JJ walked over to her, and wrapped the wool blanket around her, hugging her as she did so.

JJ kept an arm around her, as they all watched the paramedics tend to Morgan. They put him on oxygen, and started an IV in his arm. He began to stir when the needle punctured his skin, eyes fluttering, head shifting around as he returned to consciousness. Emily broke away from JJ to go to his side, grabbing his hand, tears already shimmering in her eyes. Their short exchange was uncomfortable to watch.

Hotch had never seen Prentiss teary-eyed, the woman rarely let her guard down, even around the team, people she considered family. But, what really made him squirm was how intimate that simple exchange was, it made him feel like a voyeur. She held his hand, and ran her fingers over the side of his face until the paramedics were ready to take him to the ambulance. Then she stepped back, and watched them take him out. Prentiss turned to the team then.

"I know you need my statement, but I'd really like to go with him," she said.

Hotch nodded. "Go. You need treatment as well, don't give the doctors a hard time." He sought out Reid. "Walk her out to the ambulance, find out which hospital their going to."

The young man nodded, and put his arm around Prentiss, giving her something to lean her weight on. She might be conscious and standing on her own power, but she was still weak and probably still in pain.

"Why didn't he take off the mask?" JJ asked, and Hotch turned to see her and Rossi both studying the dead man.

"Self-loathing is my guess," Dave said. He met Hotch's eyes. "You need to see what we found in the other container."

* * *

Rossi lead the way to the second shipping container, which may as well have been stamped, 'Psycho lives here'. There was a military-style cot in the back corner, a camping stove set-up on a small side table, and a cooler beside it. A couple of gallons of water were beside that, along with a crate of non-perishable food in cans and boxes. There was a table that a laptop computer, and a cord that led to a power strip. The power strip had a cord that was drawn threw a hole gauged into the side of the shipping container. He assumed it had once led to the generator that was now hooked up to, and powering the equipment in the other box, the cameras and such.

The walls were what was really disturbing though, and really showed what was going on in Darren Bernhardt's head. Most were of Emily. The wall closest to the bed held photos of her as a child, the age that Bernhardt had known her, as well as photos of his little sister who'd died. The sweet baby faces of the little girls were mixed up in a weird sort of collage, as if he viewed them as one and the same. All these photos were from before Emily was kidnapped, when she was bright and happy and smiling in all of them.

The photos skipped a couple decades, and were within the last ten years. There were newspaper clippings of the team's cases, going back to before he himself had joined them. A few had photos accompanying of the team at work, and Emily was in a few. The actual photos-taken with a telephoto lens paparazzi style-were from the last three years. He could tell based on Emily's hairstyles. They were shots of her working, entering her apartment building, getting groceries, jogging, going to the library, and a dozen other things.

There wasn't any malice to most of these, in fact, they often focused on her face. There was a sense of caring in the way that he captured her face in honest, raw moments. A troubled look at a crime scene, exhaustion as she entered her home, a small smile as she paused outside the building to pet a neighbor's dog, little things like that.

Then there were the most recent pictures, ones lacking all of the warm, fuzzy feelings the others gave. Most of these also featured Morgan. They were wider shots, generally of the two of them together, taken under darker light with hints of malice attached. These were farthest from the bedroom area, and were tacked up almost haphazardly. The others were organized and neat.

"He's been watching her for a long time," Hotch said.

"What does this all mean," JJ asked them. "Besides that he was obsessed with Emily."

Hotch nodded toward the new photos. "Her seeing Morgan seems to be what set him off."

"He was jealous? But, doesn't he see her as a replacement for his baby sister?"

Rossi turned to her. "It wasn't that kind of jealous. Emily gave him his baby sister back, and she was as messed up by the events in South Korea as he was, or at least that's what he thought. He felt a sort of bond with her, a kinship. She was his family. It looks like he tracked her down three years ago, and up until recently, she was single and really without family, like him, which further added to that idea he had that they were brother and sister, the only family they both had," Rossi explained.

"A you and me against the world type of thing, except she didn't know about it," Hotch added.

Rossi nodded. "Exactly. Then she begins seeing Morgan, and destroys the happy little fantasy he's been living. She's building up her own family, and where does that leave him? Suddenly, he has nothing left to lose, and the anger that's been brewing for thirty years over the injustice done to his father flares up, and he's determined to do something about it. He's angry at Emily because she betrayed their bond, so that makes it easier for him to hurt her and Morgan."

JJ sighed. "Then why not kill them?"

"She was still his baby sister, and he chose to protect her from himself."

"There's no bathroom," Hotch suddenly said.

"There is a port-a-potty outside. I'm guessing he used that, and a box of baby wipes for bathing purposes," he said. JJ made a face.

"He must have been off the grid a long time," she said.

"Probably since the day he got out of foster care."

Reid came in then, glanced at the photos, and cringed. "3.4 million people over the age of 18 are stalked a year in this country, and three out of four of those know the person stalking them."

"How do you sleep at night with all those facts in your head?"

He shrugged. "I'm very unlikely to have a stalker, only 1 in 45 men will ever be stalked, with women it's more like 1 in 12, and most victims are between the ages of 18 and 24. And, I don't have a very public persona, and actually someone with your job who regularly communicates and is seen by the public would be much more likely."

JJ blinked. Rossi chuckled. "I don't think that's what she wanted to hear, Reid."

"Oh, right, sorry," he said, sheepishly.

"I'm telling Will we're getting a dog."


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you everyone that has read, reviewed and favorited/alerted! There will be one more chapter after this one, an epilogue, and then this story is done!_

* * *

September 15, 1976

Hospital in Seoul, South Korea

They had bathed her, cleaned her various superficial wounds, and put her in a hospital gown, and then a bed in the children's ward. Emily hadn't flinched when they stuck the needle in her arm, and hooked up the tube. She hadn't complained when the antiseptic stung her cuts, or when they poked at the bruises around her mouth. She was blissfully numb.

She was only in the box a few hours before the man who told her his name was Travis cut through the tape, and opened it again. He'd pulled her out, and promised her that in a few hours she'd see her mommy. Emily had held tightly to the stuffed bear he'd given her to replace the broken doll, the bear that was from her own collection. He'd taken her right to the hospital, and disappeared to make some phone calls.

Emily sat now, holding that teddy bear, and staring at nothing. It was her mother's voice that finally elicited a reaction from her-she turned her head to the source. Attempting to be careful of the IV wire, her mommy scooped her up, and held her very tightly, placing kisses all over her head and face. Then she was holding her cheeks, and speaking to her in hysterical babble, and Emily just stared.

"Emily?" Her expression changed to worry. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Emily nodded, but didn't speak. Mommy turned to Daddy, "Drew, why isn't she speaking?"

He frowned, and moved closer, taking her into his arms. "Hey Peanut, we're so glad your safe. We missed you so much, did you miss us?"

Again, she nodded, but remained mute.

"Baby, can you say something so Mommy and Daddy can hear your voice?" He asked gently.

She just stared at them, part of her wondering if she was actually safe now. If she wasn't dreaming, if they wouldn't come back for her.

The doctor called them away, and Emily could see him introducing them to another doctor. She let her mind start to numb again, but not for long before more visitors appeared. Darren walked quietly into her room, his daddy remaining by the door with her parents.

"Hey Emily." He leaned over and hugged her. "You wouldn't believe what's been going on at the embassy. Security has been swarming around your mom, and the whole place has been in locked down since they took you. But, it's okay now, because you're back."

She simply stared at him, giving no indication that she'd heard any of it. Darren cleared his throat, and shifted the comics in his hands, resting them beside her on the bed. "These are the new issues. When you finish them you tell me what you think, okay?"

"Darren, time to go, let Emily have some time alone with her mom and dad." His daddy called to him, and held out a hand. Darren gave her a smile and a kiss on the cheek, before heading off to meet him.

Emily's eyes drifted to the comics, her eyes landing on the red and blue of Wonder Woman's costume, the yellow of her lasso, and finally the silver of her bracelets. Slowly, and clumsily with the bear in her arms, Emily mimicked sliding the bracelets on. One little hand landed on the shining cover as she traced the picture.

Then her parents were returning, her mommy with tears in her eyes, and they sat beside her bed. Emily looked at them, but didn't make any attempt at speech. Slowly, her eyes drifted to the wall across the room, somehow empty and guarded at the same time.

* * *

Washington General Hospital

9:00 pm

"I'm fine, and I want to see him," Emily insisted, trying to get out of the bed, as JJ struggled to keep her in it.

"If something is wrong, we'll tell you, but right now, you need to rest." The media liaison tried to maintain her patience. "Besides, his mother and sisters are in there with him now, and your parents should be here any minute to see you."

"_Parents_? As in both?"

"The US Attorney was alright with letting him see his daughter, before they took him into custody."

"His daughter doesn't want to see him, they're more than welcome to throw handcuffs on him now." The last thing she wanted was to see the man responsible for her being put through hell twice. And, nearly killing Derek.

"His daughter doesn't have a choice." JJ gave her a look. "He's coming, and he wants to see you."

Emily scowled and turned away. The rest of the team was dealing with the fall out of the whole day. Rossi and Reid had gone to the morgue with Darren's body, and Hotch and Garcia were dealing with the US attorneys and handing the case over. JJ was left to make sure she kept her ass in bed, and did as the doctors told her.

They both turned at the sound of voices, and Emily was torn at the sight of her parents at the door. Her mother wasted no time rushing in, and grabbing her up in uncharacteristic display of affection. The last time her mother had hugged her to tightly she'd been a child.

"I'm alright, Mother," she said. The older woman gently disengaged herself, and studied Emily's face, wincing at the swelling. Talking was still awkward, but painkillers helped, and she'd be allowed to wash the blood off.

"You're poor mouth...I know a good dentist in the city who can fit you for implants, I'll get his number for you." That was how Elizabeth Prentiss handled things, clean them up, fix everything, and then you can pretend it didn't happen.

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that."

"What did the doctors say?"

"I'll be alright, they're going to keep me over night, but I can go home tomorrow." They'd stuck an IV in her arm to rehydrate her, gave her oral antibiotics, were monitoring her heart, and were due to bring her something to eat soon. From what JJ told her, Morgan was getting much the same treatment, and was doing okay. He'd also been given an echocardiogram, to check for damage to his heart. They hadn't found any, a result that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Her mother smiled. "That's wonderful, Emily. I'm just so glad you're alright."

She offered a small, tired smile to her mother.

"Hi, Peanut." He stepped closer. She should have recognized his voice, but she didn't. She didn't even really know his face. It looked vaguely familiar from old photos, but she could have easily passed him on the street and not looked twice.

"Don't call me that." She looked for JJ, but her friend had already slipped out.

He nodded. "Right..." He sighed. "Look Em, I know you're angry with me, and you have every right to be. I've screwed up a lot-"

"Stop," she said, holding up a hand. "Don't insult me by trying to explain or justify any of it. You did what you did, and the rest doesn't matter."

"That's not entirely true. I left to keep you and your mom safe, and-"

Emily snorted. "We only needed to be kept safe because of your mistakes."

"I know that. Believe me, Emily, I know that, and I-"

"I do believe that, but I don't believe that you actually regret any of it. You've been hiding like a coward for 35 years, you let an innocent man be executed for what you did, and I had to beg you not to let them kill Derek. That all speaks louder and clearer than anything you can say."

"Damn it, if I'd come clean, it would have destroyed your mother's career, and I couldn't do that to her. Not after everything else."

"Don't you dare use her career as an excuse. She'd already divorced you, she would have distanced us from you, and hired a PR firm to spin everything. She's not dependent on elections, she would have survived a scandal, and you know it." Her voice had grown colder and colder, and she barely even recognized it.

He sighed, and ran his hands over his head. "I don't know how to fix this, so I'm just going to stop trying. But, as much as I've messed up I loved you then, and I still love you now…and want to give you this." He pulled something from his jacket pocket, and handed it to her.

Pictures, two of them. Each featured a blond woman younger than herself, a man, and a child or children. "What is this?"

"The woman with the little boy in her lap, that's Suzie, my youngest, and her husband Randall. Their son is named after me. The other woman is Lily, her daughter, Marion, is almost four, and Cosette was born about month before this was taken. Her husband, Sebastian wants to try one more time for a boy." His voice held a fondness and affection for the figures in the photos.

"These are your children?" Emily asked, too stunned to address anything else.

"Yes, and your sisters."

"So...you left us, and immediately started a new family?" She looked at her mother, who'd been uncharacteristically silent.

"It wasn't like that, Marianne was already pregnant when I left, and-"

"Because _that_ makes it better?" She stared at him incredulously.

He sighed, frustration leaking through his features. "I'm not handling this well-"

"Then quit while you're behind, I'm pretty sure the US attorney's office is waiting to fit your for silver bracelets anyway."

He simply nodded then, and turned and headed out of the room. Emily turned to her mother. "You're awfully quiet."

"You're a grown woman, Emily, you're relationship with your father is your business to navigate, I didn't want to interfere."

Her eyebrows rose. "Relationship? That's awfully generous, Mother."

Elizabeth sighed, and sat in the chair beside her bed. "I don't want to discuss him." She smiled. "I want to discuss Derek Morgan."

Emily studied her mother with her mouth in an unsure twist. "You aren't about to criticize my choice of mate now, are you?"

"Emily, I learned long ago to leave you to you're own decisions. But, for the record, he seems to be a good choice."

That might have been more shocking than learning she had sisters. "Oh really?"

"I've spent a good portion of the day talking with Fran and the girls, from what they tell me you and Derek are very happy." Her expression fell then. "They had all of this first-hand experience of your relationship, and were so excited that you and Derek were trying for a baby, and I didn't even know you were seeing someone, Emily."

"I know, I just...you've never approved of most of the men I've dated, my job, or really much of what I've done, and I guess I just figured it would be easier to shove it all in your face and get the drama out of the way all at one time."

"I've earned that, I know, but you're in love and starting your own family, and that is bigger than the disagreements we've had over the years."

Emily couldn't help be skeptical at her use of 'disagreements', they were both too strong-willed to have 'disagreements'. More like epic, bloody battles. But, she chose not to argue. "Alright. How about after Derek and I are both out of here, and have gathered ourselves, you come over for dinner? You can get to know him a little."

Elizabeth seemed to relax a bit, and smiled. "I'd like that. Give me a call when you're both up to it, and we'll make plans."

Emily nodded. She wasn't about to hold her breath that it would actually happen, but she'd put in the effort.

Her mother's voice was almost trepidations. "Can I ask you to do one other thing?"

And, she felt all the cordiality about to come crashing down. "Sure..."

"Can you keep me updated on my future grandbaby?"

Her mouth fell open. "You realize I'm not pregnant yet, right?"

"I know, but you will be soon, and I don't want to have to wait for another tragedy to hear about it." And, _that's_ where her mother had been hiding.

Emily bit back her sarcasm, and smiled. "Of course, Mother."

* * *

Washington General Hospital

11:00 pm

Reid and Garcia were amusing themselves with the TV remote control, and arguing about what to watch. Morgan was close to telling them both to scram. He'd sent his mother and sisters to the hotel to sleep an hour ago, and was confined in his room until his two friends disappeared. He needed to rest, they insisted, and Emily was probably already sleeping.

He didn't remember much after the last tasering. Emily crying, mostly. Everything else was too much of a blur. Hotch had stopped in earlier, told him that Darren Bernhardt had killed himself, and the others-mercenaries according to Emily-had disappeared. The threat was gone though, and they were safe, and alive, surprising as that was. Hotch had also instructed him to listen to the doctors, and take a few days off once he left the hospital.

His chest hurt, well his whole body ached, but his chest hurt the most. The doctors were monitoring his heart, and said they would be for at least 24 hours. As soon as he got home, he was taking a long hot shower, crawling into bed, and wrapping his arms around Emily. That's it, that's all he wanted. Then maybe dinner with the Morgan ladies, that sounded like an excellent way to spend a day.

"Beep, beep," JJ's voice stole all their attention. She was pushing a cranky-looking Emily in a wheelchair, IV pole sticking up on one side. Garcia and Reid instantly halted their squabbling.

"Hey," Morgan greeted, trying not to show just how happy he was to see her, and completely embarrass himself.

"Can I walk now?" Emily looked up at JJ.

"It's only two more feet, relax." Their voices said they'd completely lost patience with each other.

"You giving JJ a hard time, Em?" Garcia asked her.

"I'm physically capable of walking from one room to the next, so I should be allowed to do so."

JJ actually rolled her eyes. "And, as the doctor said, no matter how okay your feel, your heart has been through a lot, and you don't need to stress it unecessarily."

"Well, my heart hasn't stopped yet, so the doctor can relax." Her annoyed expression softened as she reached him, as did her voice. "How do you feel?"

"I've felt worse." He rested a hand on the side of her face then, and completely ignoring their audience, pulled her close and captured her lips. It was intimate and passionate, but not intense enough to be grotesque. When they finally broke apart, they held each other for a minute, enjoying the moment, even though they'd spent nearly 24 hours pressed against each other.

"Maybe we should leave..." Reid's awkward, whispered words nearly made him laugh, and had Emily chuckling against his neck.

"It's fine, we're done," Emily said, pulling away, and settling back into the wheelchair.

"Ohhhh, I can't bite me tongue any longer, what's this about you two trying to have a baby?" Garcia looked like she might have fainted if she didn't ask them right at that moment.

"My mother tell you guys?" Morgan asked them. He figured they'd have found out somehow.

"She told Reid, CSU found those vitamins at both your places, and I went through your emails-I didn't have a choice in that by the way, you were both missing, it's standard procedure," she quickly qualified.

"We're not mad, babygirl."

She looked relieved. "Good, because until you guys started talking about trying, you were the dullest couple ever, unless it was a paperwork day, and then you were x-rated."

He grinned when Emily blushed and glanced toward her hands. He looked at Garcia. "Don't tell me you actually read _that_ stuff?"

"Believe me, as soon as I got to that, I immediately backed off, but it wasn't easy. I swear, you'd be talking about picking up groceries on the way home and the suddenly it would be-" She cut herself off, holding up a hand. "That does not need to be repeated."

"No, it doesn't," Emily said.

"Oh god, were you guys having email sex while I was two feet away?" Reid looked absolutely horrified by the thought.

"No, we weren't," Morgan insisted. "It was just innuendo."

Garcia clapped her hands together. "So, back to the topic at hand. Am I going to be an auntie again?"


	14. Epilogue

Quantico, VA

June 21, 2011

"Emily Prentiss?"

She turned from the consultation request she was studying, and faced the two blond women standing beside her desk. They were familiar from the photographs, and seemed slightly nervous being in the building.

"You're Andrew's daughters, Suzie and Lily." She kept her voice pleasant, but mostly empty, and extended a hand. If she'd learned anything as a politician's daughter, it was how to be polite even when it's the last thing you want to do.

She had nothing against them, not really. But, her father-who failed so miserably with her-had been the ideal father to them. 33 years later, the abandonment still stung.

"Yes, and you're sisters." One of them (she had no idea which one, and didn't really care) said, and they both accepted her hand.

"Daddy told us about you when we went to see him a couple weeks ago," the other one explained. Tears pricked her eyes, and she looked down, but when her sister took her hand and gave it a squeeze it seemed to make her feel better. She would bet it was the older one, Lily, comforting the younger one, Suzie.

It took Emily 35 years to find that kind of close bond with another woman; she'd always been better with guys. Ironic, considering her father wasn't around. Of course, her mother hadn't been around much either. Thank god for the team.

"What can I do for you?" She kept herself in cop-mode, her shield.

Maybe-Lily addressed her. "We're burying Daddy this Saturday in Montreal, we just wanted to make sure you had the information...and we wanted to meet you."

"I appreciate the gesture, but I won't be attending." Andrew Callahan had hung himself with the bed sheets from his sad little prison bed, rather than face the death penalty and disgrace. Apparently, he'd actually confessed to everything, and this time, not under duress.

"But, it's Daddy's funeral," maybe-Suzie blurted.

Emily sighed. "He is Daddy to you; to me he's just a face from a long time ago."

"But, he's still your father," maybe-Suzie looked both very upset and confused.

"Suzie," her sister said softly, and Emily silently congratulated herself for guessing right. Lily took a step closer, and rested a hand on her arm. "I understand that this isn't the same for you as it is for us, but if you'd like to come, we'd like to see you there."

She pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse and passed it to Emily. The profiler studied it, and noted the name of a church, time and date, and then contact information for both Lily and Suzie. She looked up at them.

"No matter the mistakes our father made, you're still our sister...don't be a stranger." Lily squeezed her wrist, and then both she and Suzie headed out of the BAU.

"You alright?"

Emily turned toward Morgan's desk, and gave him a soft smile. "Sure...Is it wrong that I don't really _want_ to know them?"

He shrugged, and then teasingly asked, "Does it feel wrong?"

She rolled her eyes. They'd been seeing a shrink together for the last month, neither all that happy about it, but their jobs sort of depended on their mental health. And, the nightmares with demented clowns were actually becoming less numerous for both of them. Enough that they'd been back at work for a week and a half.

"Not really-well, maybe a little-no-I don't know," she sighed in frustration.

He got up from his chair, and came to lean against her desk. "Do you feel like you should be getting to know them?"

Emily gave him a sideways look. "I think it's pretty clear I don't have the best track record with blood relations."

"You share a father with these women, is that enough reason for you to get to know them?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know."

* * *

Churchyard of St. Sebastian's

Montreal, Canada

June 25, 2011

It was sunny and warm at almost 70 degrees, so Emily didn't feel chilled in her dress. It wasn't often that she actually bothered to wear a skirt or a dress, but a funeral at a church warranted a little dressing up. Derek was close to her, the length of her body touching his, their hands intertwined. Sunglasses and blank faces, they'd unintentionally adopted their cop behavior, having gone to plenty of funerals as cops. This one was both more and less personal.

Whether she wanted him to be or not, Andrew was her father. The two women crying on their husbands' arms had a quarter of the same DNA she shared. At the same time, they usually knew more about victims whose funerals they attended, simply from the nature of their job. She knew very little about the man who fathered, then abandoned her, and that bothered her probably less than it should. Emily was just too damn tired to care about any of it now.

The service had begun at the church, and was painfully lengthy as it included full mass, which meant going from standing, to kneeling to sitting several times. Then six men she didn't recognize, except for Lily and Suzie's husbands, lifted the casket and carried it from the church to a plot in the vast churchyard. Marianne followed it, dressed it in head to toe black, crying into a hanky, and even less familiar to Emily than Andrew. If she tried really hard, she could hear the voice of the woman who gave her lollipops and was always scolding her for being rambunctious-and in front of so many important people-but, it felt more like a movie she'd seen years ago.

They stood apart from everyone else, and looked rather out of place. The priest initiated the final prayer-for God to forgive Andrew for taking his own life-and people tossed flowers onto the coffin. The line to well-wish his family started, and they watched as people shook hands, hugged and kissed the Marianne and the girls. She and Derek remained glued to the section of grass they'd picked. When it was all over, they walked over to Lily and Suzie, conscious of the curious eyes from the departing crowd.

"I'm so glad you made it, Emily," Lily greeted, taking her hands.

"It was a beautiful service," she said, lamely.

She smiled warmly. "Is this your husband?"

"Oh sorry, Derek Morgan," she introduced him, and refrained from adding that he was the man their father allowed to be tortured. That was more unforgivable than the abandonment. But, Derek exchanged handshakes with the two women and their husbands.

"Emily, it's good to see you."

"Marianne," she simply said as the woman appeared beside her daughters.

Noting the tension, Lily spoke again. "We've had catering delivered to Mom's house, you can follow one of us back, Emily."

"Thank you, but I think we're actually going to head out to the airport."

"We're doing the reading of the will, you should be there for that," Suzie said.

Emily shook her head. "I don't want anything he might have left to me."

The two women didn't seem to know what to do with her, and Marianne just seemed uncomfortable. Emily decided to put them all out of their misery.

"It was nice to see you both again." She grabbed Morgan's hand, and went to turn, but Lily and Suzie got to her first, both startling her with unexpected hugs. She forced on a smile, and waved goodbye, choosing not to make any promises of further contact.

"You sure you don't want to go along?" Derek asked once they were seated in the car.

"I just want to go home." Having a childhood of traveling constantly, she was used to the feeling of not fitting in, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with it. DC was home, and all the family she wanted and needed was there, or in the car with her.

"Then we'll go home." He kissed her hand, and then started the car, and joined the line of cars heading out of the cemetery.

"Is it wrong that I'd like to limit my relationship with them to Christmas cards?"

"You want my personal opinion?" He asked.

"That would be nice."

He smiled at her sarcasm. "I love my sisters, and I cherish every moment I get with them, but have learned over the years that blood does not necessarily make a family. Now, I have no experience with long lost half-siblings, but if you don't feel compelled toward them in anyway, you shouldn't have to force yourself to be involved."

She released a breath. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Reassuring me that I'm not just being a resentful bitch."

Derek grinned. "Well...you do have your moments."

Emily shot him a mock glare, and pinched him.

"Hey ow! Careful, I've got to steer."

"Really, a little pinch hurts the big tough He-man?"

"It's not the body, Princess, it's the feelings," he said putting a hand over his heart.

"Well, when we get home, I'll kiss it and make it better. Will you forgive me then?"

"I'm already forgiving you a little at the thought."

Emily smiled at the comfortable banter, and took the hand he offered her. "Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." She was surprised he didn't get whiplash with how fast he turned from the highway toward her.

The initial shock wore off quickly though, because really he'd already known that. "I love you too."

So did she. They settled into a peaceful silence as Morgan navigated along the highway, out of Montreal to the closest international airport. Their bags were already packed and in the trunk, and their tickets were open, so they could hop on the next flight to DC. That was when Emily suddenly remembered something she'd done that morning.

"Pull over."

"We're on the highway," Derek reminded her.

"There's a shoulder, pull over," she insisted. He looked at her dubiously. "Pull over, pull over," she urged.

"Alright, alright," Morgan said, shaking his head and holding up a hand to tell her to settle.

Didn't matter, she was already working on her seatbelt as he signaled, and merged to the farthest lane. Then he signaled again, and started to slow down. "Do you have to pee or something?

"No. I took a test this morning, but was too anxious to check it. Now, I have to know."

"Test?" He frowned, then realization dawned. "Whoa, wait. You're going to check your pee stick in the middle of the highway?" He was incredulous as he threw the car into park, and turned on the hazard lights. Emily practically jumped out of her seat.

"Pop the trunk!" She called.

She ignored the cars whizzing by as she opened the unlocked trunk, and grabbed at her bag, trying to remember which pocket she'd shoved the box in.

"Why didn't you tell me you took a test this morning?" Morgan was beside her then, still looking like he was trying to make sense of her behavior.

"I was going to, but I was so nervous about the funeral, I could handle both at once." Emily reached into the correct pocket, and yanked out the box.

"And, you couldn't wait another five minutes, and checked it at the airport?"

Emily was only half listening to him, the rest of her was listening to her own heart pounding. She grabbed the test, and pulled it out, her breath freezing in her throat. A quick glance told her what she needed to know, and her eyes opened wide in shock. Looking at Derek, she turned the test to him.

His mouth opened, and his eyes grew as big as she'd bet hers were. "Is that for real?"

She nodded, and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly and capturing his lips. She pulled back long enough to take a breath and whisper, "We're having a baby."

"Yes, we are," he grinned, before initiating a second kiss.

They were kissing rather passionately, completely oblivious to the show they were giving the passing motorists, when sirens startled them. They broke apart to see flashing lights and a traffic cop pulling up behind them.

Morgan looked at her. "I think I'll let you explain this one, Princess."

* * *

_Thank you everyone who read and reviewed this, I really appreciate any feedback you've offered and would love to hear anything else you have to say.  
_

_Bad news. I messed up my shoulder bad enough to need physical therapy, and cannot write until it heals enough that I'm not in pain. I'm hoping that won't be more than a month. This is the second time this has happened, and it sucks so completely, I just want to scream. Anyway, when I return from this hiatus, the sequel to Distorted, titled, Until These Shivers Subside, will be the first thing I start positing. After that it will be a chaptered Emily returning from the dead case-fic. The Grief series is discontinued, since at this point it won't even be remotely timely._


End file.
